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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22636744">on a genderbender</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devral/pseuds/Devral'>Devral</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(This story is not angsty! There is only minor angst, Body Dysphoria, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Female Masturbation, Fluff and Crack, Gender Dysphoria, I promise.), M/M, Minor Body Horror, Spideypool Big Bang 2019, all related to being accidentally changed from male to female, cis!male Peter, genderbender, genderbent characters kissing, genderfluid!wade, nonconsensual/accidental body changes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 10:47:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>40,570</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22636744</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devral/pseuds/Devral</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>While checking out one of Doc Ock's warehouses to try to figure out what Doc is up to, Wade and Peter accidentally activate a machine that changes someone's gender. Peter is the unlucky recipient of the change. Wade does his best to take care of Peter by stuffing as much food into him as possible and sneaking in some leg ogling while Peter works to get himself back to normal!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker &amp; Wade Wilson, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>121</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Spideypool Big Bang - The 2019 Collection</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Wade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!! I can't believe this is finished, oh em gee. I've been working on this almost exclusively for MONTHS and it's finally here! This has been a giant labor of love. It was originally supposed to be only about 10k-15k and of course, as we can all see, it ended up NOT THAT, but I don't regret it!</p><p>I've got a lot of people to thank, first and foremost to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/yenyen/pseuds/Jennicide">Jennicide</a> for being my awesome beta/alpha reader and constant cheerleader. She did a fantastic job keeping me on track!</p><p>Thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corey5268/pseuds/Corey5268">Corey5268</a> for helping me draft the first idea and being an awesome early cheerleader, and to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiderKatana/pseuds/SpiderKatana">SpiderKatana</a> for reading it when I was almost finished and reminding me that my writing isn't trash and I shouldn't give up!</p><p>All the love and praise to my artist, <a href="https://thelazydrawer.tumblr.com/">Art Wolf</a>, go follow them on Tumblr! They draw all the great stuff!</p><p>And last but not least, thanks so so so so much to all the lovely people over at the Isn't it Bromantic? (18+) Spideypool Discord server. I got back into writing because of you guys and I absolutely love you all for it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div> <p> </p>
<p>There’s a fumbling sound in the darkness, followed by a loud cry. </p>
<p>“Oh shit!”</p>
<p>“Deadpool, be quiet!” Spider-man’s voice hisses from not far away. </p>
<p>“I kicked a thing, I don’t think this is good, shit-”</p>
<p>“What? Deadpool, are you-”</p>
<p>Crashes sound through the room as Wade stumbles back from the machine he had knocked into. It’s glowing and vibrating ominously. “We should probably get out of here, Spidey.”</p>
<p>Spider-man moves swiftly and gracefully through the room, easily navigating the hodgepodge of machines and various half-built electronics that litter the floor. Leaning in, he reaches out to examine the knee height machine. “Did you hit some kind of bu-”</p>
<p>He doesn’t get the chance to finish his question. As soon as he touches the thing, he’s bathed in light from head to toe, emanating from the side of the now heavily vibrating machine. He jerks his hand away with a cry, shaking it sharply. </p>
<p>The light brightens, and Wade can now see Spider-man clearly as his edges seem to blur and he shrinks down, his shape subtly curving out. Another cry sounds, and Wade jerks forward just in time to catch the man as he falls. Swinging the limp form up, he stares down at his armful in shock.</p>
<p>“What the fuck was that, Webs?”</p>
<p>Spider-man doesn’t answer. He’s too busy being unconscious from what Wade supposes was probably a very painful event. The other man… doesn’t appear to be a man anymore. The blurring that Wade had seen seems to have <em> actually </em> changed Spider-man’s shape. He’s much shorter and lighter than the last time Wade had been forced to carry his unconscious form, and the soft curves pressed against Wade’s chest lend even more evidence to what Wade is starting to think was a freaking <em> sex change machine. </em> </p>
<p>Cuddling curvy girl-Spider-man closer, he hooks his foot under the machine, managing to toss it up enough to grip the handy handle looking thing sticking out of the side. Managing to grab it without dropping his armful of Spidey, he shuffles it so he can grip Spider-man close, hold the machine tightly, <em> and </em>dig around at his belt while hopefully not touching any of Spidey’s new unmentionables in the process. </p>
<p>If he can just- He wiggles his hand a little lower and finally manages to grip his teleporter belt. Here’s hoping it works this time and doesn’t throw them into a different dimension or back to the past or something. He hit the button. </p>
<p>Wade and his burden vanish with a <em> whoomp </em>of displaced air. </p>
<p>They reappear near-instantaneously in Wade’s apartment. </p>
<p>Unfortunately, the teleporter belt is still on the fritz. While it appears to have worked well enough to keep them in the correct time and dimension, it did <em> not </em> manage to get them on the floor of said apartment. </p>
<p>Wade flails, trying to catch himself on the nothingness surrounding them. They appeared much closer to the ceiling than he would like and, gravity being what it is, they start falling. He drops the doohickey and somehow manages to catch Spidey before they hit the ground. Unfortunately, the catching doesn’t do him all that much good. He lands with a painful thump on the back of his couch, Spidey hitting his stomach and driving the air out of him. The force knocks them both back and onto the floor.</p>
<p>Spider-man is still unconscious. That’s a little worrying. Wade really would have expected all the noise and the unexpected free-fall to have woken the man. On the other hand, Wade figures a  sudden and unexpected sex change is probably hard on a body. </p>
<p>Wade shifts Spider-man’s dead weight over onto the floor next to them and sits up with a groan. Freezing for a second, he leans over and stares hard at the figure next to him. </p>
<p>Okay, good. That is chest movement of the breathing kind. </p>
<p>Wow. Spider-Man’s new form is definitely pretty curvy, at least compared to how he looked before. Those are some nicely rounded little palm fulls. </p>
<p>Steadying himself, Wade stands. Leaning down, he quickly picks Spider-man up and places him down over the back of the couch and onto the cushions. Shaking out a blanket, he drapes that over him for good measure. Examining him for a second, Wade reaches out and lifts Spider-man’s mask just enough to bare plush lips. Probably a good idea to make sure that if Spidey rolls over, he isn’t gonna suffocate. </p>
<p>Cocking his head to the side, Wade runs his eyes from the top of Spider-Man’s head slowly down to his feet. Now that he’s got a chance to really look, there are a lot of visible changes, even through the suit. The spandex is bunching up all over the place, making it very obvious that Spidey has probably lost a decent chunk of height. The suit is also baggy over his shoulders, but it’s very tight at the chest and hips, emphasizing the new feminine figure. </p>
<p>Spider-Man will be pissed if his new shape makes it difficult to web swing. </p>
<p>And shit! </p>
<p>Wade hastily turns his eyes away from the figure laid out on his couch. It probably isn’t cool to ogle passed out guests on his couch. Consent is important, and Spidey might not appreciate the ogling. When he’s awake enough to notice it, he certainly gets pissy about the staring if Wade’s admiring becomes a little too loud or obvious. </p>
<p>Wade should definitely save his ogling for when Spidey’s up and moving around. At least then the man can hit him if Wade goes too far. </p>
<p>Leaning over to tuck the blanket around Spidey a little more securely, Wade gives the webslinger’s new form one more lingering look before he turns away. It could be a while before Spider-man wakes up; might as well take a shower and then Wade can cook up a feast. It’s never happened to Wade before, but he can easily assume that a sex change would work up an appetite.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Peter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter smacks his lips as he rolls over, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. He’s so tired, and his alarm hasn’t gone off yet. He wonders muzzily what woke him up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It could be a lot of things, honestly. His mouth feels like the Sahara has taken up residence in it and his whole body aches. Even after a hard night out fighting crime, he usually doesn’t feel this bad. His healing factor is good enough to take care of most aches and pains with just a little extra food. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wait. His eyes snap open, and he sees light filtering through the lenses of his mask and some kind of furniture in front of his face. Peter doesn’t remember going home last night. His mask is still on and this is definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>his couch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least his mask is still on, though it’s pulled up to his nose. His suit is sitting oddly on his body but Peter sets that thought aside as he tries to figure out where he is and who might have brought him here. There are  sounds of activity from behind him. Peter can hear clinking dishes and a soft humming as well as the rustle of someone moving around. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Where is he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He racks his brain, trying to piece together what happened. He remembers being in one of Doc Ock’s discard warehouses, looking through the machines there, trying to figure out why there was suddenly a female Doc running around instead of the usual male version. Peter had honestly thought that maybe Doc Ock was messing around with interdimensional travel and figured he should definitely check it out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had dragged Deadpool along because he was only other super that Peter knew well enough to invite that </span>
  <em>
    <span>also</span>
  </em>
  <span> had previous experience dimension hopping. He remembered them going into the building. He remembered yelling at Deadpool for making too much noise. And then… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh no. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deadpool had stumbled into one of the machines, accidentally turning it on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Peter had reached out to touch it, trying to figure out how to turn it off… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What had happened next?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as Peter had touched it, firey pain had run up his arm and then it felt like his whole body had started vibrating... and then nothing. Peter couldn’t remember what had happened next. He must have passed out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, that explained what had happened. Deadpool must have carried him somewhere. Sitting up, Peter gasps in shocked pain at how tense and aching his muscles are. “Holy crap!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He claps his hand over his mouth. Holy crap! That wasn’t his voice. “Deadpool?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A clatter sounds from behind him and then the sound of stumbling feet heads toward him, Deadpool’s voice calling out at the same time, “Spidey? Oh, I’m so glad you’re awake! I was seriously starting to freak out a little, you’ve been out for almost fifteen hours! I was worried I might have to actually take you to the hospital and I just knew you would hate that. I made pancakes, hope you’re hungry-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop talking!” Peter demands shrilly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deadpool skips around the couch, mimes zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you bring me here?” Peter asks with his new, weirdly high-pitched voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deadpool nods, the eyeholes of his mask widening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where is here?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the question, Deadpool starts miming exaggeratedly, pointing around the room and then gesturing at himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter waves him off, exasperated at the man’s typical flamboyance. “You can talk, it’s fine, I just wanted to get a word in edgewise.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Phew!” Deadpool wipes his masked forehead as though wiping away sweat. “That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> harder than it should have been, and I was only quiet for like thirty seconds! Anyway, you’re at my apartment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s wrong with my voice?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, well…” Deadpool trails off and waves at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not helpful,” Peter states flatly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you looked at yourself yet?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? I mean, I haven’t even gotten off the couch yet.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah… Look down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Peter looks down. “Oh, holy shit, what the hell is this!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gasp! You swore!” Deadpool claps a hand over his mouth, pointing an accusatory finger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do I have breasts!?” Peter shrieks, ignoring Deadpool’s histrionics. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deadpool scratches the back of his mask. “Yeah, I’m not sure. That machine blurred your edges and then after you passed out you were like this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter scrambles off the couch, still looking down at… what seems to be his body now. He slaps his hands over his new chest appendages. Oh crap. He can feel that. They are definitely attached to his body. Finally categorizing all the signals his body is sending, he notices that his cup isn’t sitting quite right anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh no. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He drops a hand, digging into the hidden opening at his crotch. “Ooooohhh my god.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter looks up at the soft sound. Deadpool has his hand clasped over his eyes. Peter doesn’t have any time to be grateful for the consideration, though. He’s too busy spiraling into a panic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My penis is missing!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I look now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” Peter exclaims, looking down and digging further into his pants. He jolts as his fingers run into something unexpected. There’s… he has… Oh no!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have a vagina,” Peter mumbles, shock overwhelming him. “Why do I have a vagina?!” He bursts out. Peter looks back up to where Deadpool is twitching not too far from him, hand still clasped over his face. “Deadpool! What did you do?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The accusation is too much for the other man. Deadpool drops his hand from his face, and plants both hands onto his hips, offense in every line of his body. “Excuse you! I didn’t do anything except carry you here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The machine! Did you grab the machine?” Peter doesn’t wait for an answer, alreading looking around frantically. When he doesn’t see the device conveniently sitting in the room, he turns for the door. “We need to go back and get it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, I grabbed it! It’s right here, I knew you would want it.” Deadpool exclaims, running back into the other room before Peter has the chance to freak out anymore. When he returns, he’s carrying something square and metallic in his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That yanks the wind right out of Peter’s sails. He had been all ready to run out and get it and there it is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” He stares blankly at Deadpool as he walks around the couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deadpool lets the machine drop with a heavy sounding thunk onto the coffee table, crushing food wrappers underneath it. He stands straight and gestures at it grandly. “Ta da! I mean, I didn’t know exactly what had happened to you, but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>noticed your edges blur. I figured you might need this to fix whatever it did.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter just looks at it. The machine is so harmless and unassuming looking! It doesn’t seem to have any buttons or switches. It looks like nothing more than a metal box with a handle. It’s not even very big, barely the size of two shoe boxes stacked together. It seems too simple looking of a thing for something that has obviously made such drastic changes to Peter’s body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did you even turn it on?” Peter finally asks, looking up at where Deadpool is still holding his position with his hands held dramatically out towards the device. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The question has the man dropping his hands, shoulders slumping. “You’re not gonna thank me for grabbing it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter blinks. “Oh. Yes,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Deadpool. Yes, thank you. I’m very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> glad you thought to grab it. You were right. I’ll need this to figure out how to reverse what was done to me. I just-” he hesitates. “I just don’t really feel right. I’m just… riding the edge of shock, I guess.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s words have the other man straightening back up as a big smile stretches out his mask. Deadpool claps his hands together sharply, and Peter startles, jumping back and tumbling over onto the couch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oops!” Deadpool exclaims. “Sorry, sweetums. Didn’t mean to scare you. I just remembered though, I made food! That should make you feel better. Food makes everything better, right?”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He spins and literally skips back toward the other room. Peter feels his whole face twitch as he watches the other man go. How does he maintain that level of cheery near-obliviousness all the time? Peter knows Deadpool isn’t as ignorant as he seems most of the time. He’s worked with the man enough to know that his mind is as sharp as the swords he usually keeps strapped to his back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Deadpool comes back into the room, he’s carrying two plates stacked high, 20 pancakes deep, on both plates and a bottle of real maple syrup. He sets it all down next to the machine and plops onto the couch next to Peter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eat up!” He waves at the plates, pulling one stack closer to himself and reaching for the syrup. He doesn’t waste any time pulling his mask up to his nose and cramming a whole pancake into his mouth at once. “Der’s mo’ ‘n da it’n.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter blinks at him before he swings his gaze to the pancakes. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He reaches out and grabs the second plate, pulling his own mask up to his nose and digs in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh wow,” Peter mumbles, swallowing. Mildly sweet and the perfect amount of fluffy, the pancakes stand up to the syrup without getting mushy but aren’t so dense that it just slides off- “These are fantastic!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, right?” Wade grins over at him, cramming a whole nother pancake in his mouth. He’s already half-way through his plate, and Peter can see drips of syrup around his mouth and on the front of his suit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn’t bother Peter enough to stop eating and mention it though. He takes another bite of pancake and tries to keep in a groan of delight. These are easily the best pancakes he’s ever had in his whole life. Light and fluffy but dense enough that they aren’t getting gross and soggy from the syrup. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room are the clinking of silverware against plates and Peter’s aborted moans. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deadpool finishes first, letting out a huge belch and rubbing his stomach. “Yum! I’m gonna grab seconds, you gonna want more?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter looks over at him, cheeks bulging around a huge bite of pancake, and shakes his head. He still has half of his plate left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deadpool grins again. “Want some water or coke or something to wash it down?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter swallows hastily. “Uh, yeah. Coke is okay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Got it!” Deadpool jumps up and rounds the couch once more. When he comes back he has a pair of huge two liter bottles of coke under one arm and another towering plate of pancakes. Peter can barely believe his eyes as he watches the other man sit down and begin powering through the second plate at the same speed he had eaten the first. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deadpool must notice his gaze, even through Peter’s mask. He half turns away, the hand not holding the fork coming up to cover his mouth. His voice no longer has the peppy cheerfulness and instead is laced with bitterness when he speaks, “Wow, Mr. McStaring eyes.  You know, there’s a quote for that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My dear, I am ugly, but tomorrow you shall be sober and I will still be ugl</span>
  </em>
  <span>- Oh, shit, wait!” He scowls at Peter. “That’s not right! But whatever, you get what I mean. Keep your peepers to yourself. I don’t need to be gaped at while I’m trying to eat, thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s eyes jump away. “No!” he exclaims. “It’s not that. I just- I’ve just never seen anyone eat as much as I do, usually.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Wade hesitantly lets his hand fall back down to grip his plate. His mouth tips up in a half-smile as he digs back into his plate. “Yeah, metabolism always burning that midnight oil. Gotta keep up with both the cancer and the healing, you know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I guess I never thought of that.” Well, that was certainly the most awkward thing Peter could have said. He wants to smack himself, especially since Deadpool seems to have lost his easy comfort. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter finishes his plate and sets it aside. “So, uh… I guess I should take a look at that machine now. I definitely want to get back to normal as soon as possible.” He ruefully gestures down at his body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That has Deadpool perking back up again. “Oh yeah! You need me to get you anything or help at all?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, do you have something else I could wear?” Peter looks down at his weirdly bunching suit. “This is a little uncomfortable.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You got it!” Deadpool drops his still half-full plate onto the table and pulls down his mask as he heads toward the only door in the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Deadpool’s through the doorway, Peter takes a moment to get down on his knees next to the coffee table and really examine the machine. There still aren’t any visible buttons or switches, but Peter notices a seam running along one edge. He reaches out to gently run his finger along it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It looks like it is only slotted together and should be easy enough to pry apart. Moving to turn the contraption, he also sees that the handle is loose. Oh no. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reaching out to grasp it, he notices that it moves easily but not in a way that might indicate that the handle is a switch of some kind. One of the connection points is unsecured. It must have happened when Deadpool kicked the machine and accidentally turned it on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door pops open, startling Peter into looking up. Deadpool is already talking before the door has even finishes opening. “So I definitely don’t have anything that’ll fit your new, even tinier than before look, but I have this shirt?” He holds out a short sleeved t-shirt. “It’s super comfy? And it should definitely be long enough. Probably come down to your knees. You could, like, belt it or something?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter blinks at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Spidey?” Deadpool waves the shirt in Peter’s direction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t tiny.” It slips out without any thought, before Peter can censor it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words have Deadpool barking out a laugh. “Definitely tiny compared to me,” he gestures vaguely down his body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, Peter hadn’t even thought about the fact that there was no way Deadpool would own something that could fit him. Thinking back to when he was standing in front of the man, Deadpool now towered over him. He had always been taller but that slight height advantage has grown considerably with Peter’s unfortunate change in body shape. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter stands and moves towards Deadpool, hand held out for the shirt. “Yeah, thanks. Uh, you mind if I go clean up and change in the bathroom?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, go for it!” Deadpool passes off the shirt and gestures back at the bedroom. “It’s through there. Uh, just… Watch out for all the blood? I always forget to clean up in there!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter watches bemusedly as the man flops back onto the couch, reaching for his unfinished plate. “I mean, as long as it isn’t in puddles,” he tacks on for reassurance, “it should be fine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hah!” Deadpool guffaws around a mouthful of pancake. “Well, I hung out in the bathtub the last time I lost ‘Ol Faithful so...” He wiggles the fingers of his right hand in Peter’s direction and Peter can’t help but wrinkle his nose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, really? You call your right hand ‘Ol Faithful?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Course!” Deadpool says cheerfully, switching his plate from his left hand to the other and resuming his little wave. “Lefty here is ‘Ol Reliable.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter laughs. “Well, then, uh…” He awkwardly waves the shirt. “I’m gonna go change.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deadpool smirks at him. “Have fun.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ignoring the comment, Peter enters the bedroom, catching himself on the doorframe as he trips on the baggy feet of his suit. Ugh, just based on how long the legs of his suit are on him now, he must have lost at least 6 inches of height. This is ridiculous!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He swings the door closed behind himself and doesn’t even bother to look around before he’s climbing out of his suit. He lets it fall to the floor and pulls his mask off before he lets his focus shift to the minute details of the room. And… holy wow, he should have believed Deadpool when he said to look out for the blood. It’s everywhere.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It genuinely looks like a massacre occurred in the bathroom. There’s dried blood splattered in an arc over the wall above the toilet, spreading over the shower curtain, and on the ceiling. There’s even a still-damp puddle of it swirled around the drain of the tub. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh no! He looks down at his feet, where he had let his suit land. And… of course it did. It’s managed to drop in another puddle of coagulated blood. He heaves a sigh, reaching down to grab it. Looking around for a moment, he drops it again, defeated. Where would he even put it now? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s blood smeared all over everything, around the sink and even the toilet seat has flecks of blood on it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keeping his mask gripped in his hand, he reluctantly pulls the shirt on over his head. Deadpool hadn’t been exaggerating with his estimate of how it would fit Peter. The shirt falls off one shoulder, the short sleeves extend down past his elbows and the bottom of the shirt covers his knees. It’ll have to do though. At the moment, it’s all he has to work with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Moving to stand in front of the mirror, he finally lets himself look up. Instantly he feels the sting of disappointment. There’s nothing to see there. Deadpool has removed the mirror and all that remains in the vacant space is a medicine cabinet with no door. The cabinet shelves themselves stand empty except for a box of Hello Kitty bandaids. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There goes seeing what his face looks like now that he’s been shapeshifted into a woman. Looking down through the gaping neck of the shirt, he notices that his freckles and beauty marks all seem to be in about the same place. There’s a mole sitting just on the inside of his nipple, on his right pectoral - well, breast - wow, he’s really going to have to start referring to his anatomy differently now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He brings his hand up and jiggles the flesh. That’s definitely a breast. His pecks never jiggled like that before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter giggles slightly hysterically, and  claps his hand over his mouth. That was too high pitched of a sound to come out of his vocal cords!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Letting his head tip back onto his shoulders and bringing his other hand up, he tugs at his hair. At least that’s one thing that doesn’t seem to have drastically changed. It’s still thick and wavy, but it definitely hasn’t grown any longer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lightly reprimanded himself. Sure, there’s some silly gender biased assumptions going through his head at the moment, but he should definitely know better. Girls having long hair is merely a societal expectation and plenty of his female friends would be disappointed in him for even daring to assume that a sex change machine would magically make his hair longer too; of course a little biological shapeshifting wouldn’t change his hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing and letting go of the roots of his hair, he pulls his mask back on. Even his own mind voice is sounding exasperated and condescending. Best not to think about it anymore, anyway. With a little luck, he should be able to figure out Doc Ock’s machine and get himself changed back within the next few hours. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning to head back out into the living room, he doesn’t get any further than pulling open the bathroom door and stepping into the bedroom before the neck of his borrowed shirt is slipping right off his shoulder, far enough that it almost bares an entire breast. He stops and looks down. Yeah, he’s definitely going to have to do something about this little fashion dysfunction first before he can really go back out there with Deadpool. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking around, he’s stumped at what he could use to help keep the shirt how he needs it. There are clothes piled up in one corner, guns heaped in another, but no belts lying conveniently out in the open. Through the gaping door of the closet, Peter can see a few extra Deadpool suits hanging among a bunch of what looks like dresses and there’s another mass of clothes on the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing jumps out at him as useful right away until he spots some boots sitting tipped on their sides next to the door. The laces of one of the boots is broken and there’s a brand new pack of shoelaces sitting next to them. That’ll work perfectly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Deadpool?” Peter calls, leaning out the doorway and looking at the man now eating what looks to be his third plate of pancakes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s shakin’, bacon?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I use these shoelaces? You’ve got an unopened package in here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here? Where here?” Deadpool’s eyehole’s widen in surprise as he looks around, seeming to expect shoelaces to magically materialize out of thin air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter points down at his feet. “Next to the bedroom doorway. Like, right here next to me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooooh,” Wade draws out the word knowingly. “Nice, thanks, author. Those shoelaces were pretty conveniently placed! I definitely had no idea those were there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Peter asks, surprised. “You don’t remember getting them? I mean, they’re right next to some boots with broken laces.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah,” Wade waves his fork dismissively, flinging drops of syrup all over the couch and floor, “I definitely don’t remember buying them. But hey! A bullet through the brainpan can really scramble my memories sometimes. I’ve had a few of those recently.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, uh… Can I use them?” Peter leans down and picks them up off the floor, wiggling the package at Deadpool.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deadpool crams another pancake in his mouth before looking back over at Peter and nods his head. “Yeah, sure,” he garbles out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Peter says and rips into the package and grabs the laces. They’re long but don’t look quite long enough for a single string to make it around the circumference of his waist. Tying one end of the shoelace to the other, he wraps it around himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deadpool snorts. “Didja forget that your body is smaller?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter shoots him a dirty look, hoping it’s obvious through his mask. With the two laces twinned together, it’s long enough to wrap around him twice and still tie a neat bow. “Just- freaking-” Peter scowls and stomps back into the living room. Throwing himself on the couch, he complains. “I need to figure out how to make this machine turn me back. I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be female!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean,” Deadpool hums, leaning forward to drop his now empty plate on the table, “I don’t think I would mind it all that much. Think of the clothes!” His white masked eyes widen and seem to almost twinkle at the thought. “Ooooh, you’ve got the shape now to </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>pull off some cute dresses! You probably could have before, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>now! </span>
  </em>
  <span>You’ve got breasts and hips now!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A scowl grows on Peter’s face as Deadpool keeps chattering about how awesome women’s clothing is. “I don’t want to wear dresses, Deadpool!” Peter finally interrupts loudly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deadpool whines at him just like a puppy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, is it really that disappointing?” Peter can’t help but laugh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes!” Deadpool exclaims. “I love shopping! And I love women’s clothing! Ugh, if I had hips and boobs, I would wear dresses more often. I have a few cute ones, but my shoulders are just too wide to really pull any of ‘em off all that well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, let me just see what I can do with this machine. As soon as I finish, we can go shopping for women’s clothes, I don’t mind going with and helping pick some out for you,” Peter offers as an olive branch. He wouldn’t mind letting the man drag him around a shop, as long as he has his own male body back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Woo, new dresses!” Deadpool hollers, jumping to his feet. “This calls for more pancakes!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter watches him run back into the kitchen and not long after there’s the sound of clinking dishes and the fridge opening. Deadpool must actually be making more pancakes. Shaking his head, he eases himself onto the floor between the couch and coffee table, pulling the thing that had done this to him closer. No better time than now to start figuring out how to fix it. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Wade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wade peeks into the living room. It’s been quiet in there the whole time Wade’s been making the second batch of pancakes for them and that’s just not typical of Spider-man. But when he looks, Webs is focusing intently on the machine Wade had grabbed from the warehouse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spinning back into the kitchen, Wade cranes his arm and pats himself on the back and mumbles, “Good job, self! I knew we would need that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grabbing up the two plates he had prepared, he bustled back out into the living room. He sets one of the plates next to the machine with a flourish. “Here you go, baby boy! Brain food.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm?” Spider-Man hums, “Oh, thanks.” He looks up at Wade and does a double take. “What- uh… What are you wearing?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, this?” Wade chirps, spreading out the front of the frilly pink apron. He’s got it on over his suit, and it’s pink with red strawberries polka dotted all over. There are frills along the bottom and over the entire neckline. “Aw, nuffin’, just something I had lying around,” he simpers, wiggling his fingers at Spider-man in a tiny wave. Letting go of the skirt, he spins in a circle. “I just like looking pretty while I’m cooking!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spidey reaches for his plate without looking, masked face still focusing in Wade’s direction. His bare hand smacks right into the stack of pancakes, sending them sliding toward the edge of the plate. “Oh, shoot!” he exclaims, scrambling to grab them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade tilts his head, examining Spider-Man as he focuses hard on his plate. Wade sits down, holding a plate of pancakes for himself. “You don’t like it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no! It looks nice!” When Spidey lifts his mask up to his nose, Wade can see a blush spreading down his cheeks and towards his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade grins at him before cutting into his own pancakes. The blush spreads down Spidey’s throat and through the neck of his oversized shirt. Wade can see it splotching his collarbones but decides to let it slide. With how red he’s getting, Spidey might explode if Wade provokes him any more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So?” Wade asks leadingly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” Spider-Man startles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade grins. It’s always so much fun to tease people, but Spider-Man might honestly be one of the best. He always gets so easily flustered! “Learned anything about the thingy yet? Gonna be able to make it change you back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That helps Spidey’s blush fade. He tenses up, scowling down at his plate and finally cutting into the pancakes to take a bite. He waves his fork a little in aggravation and speaks around his mouthful, “Well, it’s broken. I should be able to fix it, but it’ll definitely take some time. Some of the wires were burned out. A day or two, at least. Possibly longer. Ugh, I’m going to need to buy parts!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade taps his foot against the other man’s. “Aww, don’t worry about buying things. I’m loaded enough, I can get whatever you need to fix it! I’m the reason this happened, anyway.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!” Spidey shakes his head as he looks over at Wade. “No, DP, it’s not your fault. You just tripped over it. It’s not like you were playing with it on purpose or anything.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, you can call me Wade if you want.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know I told you my name forever ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess I thought you wouldn’t want me to use it? I mean, it’s your secret identity and all.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade laughs. Secret identity! That’s a hoot and a half. Wade hasn’t ever had anything even resembling a secret identity. “Nah, who do I have to protect? ‘Sides, everyone knows who I am, Spidey-cakes. Though I guess it’s nice to hear you never Googled me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spider-Man shrugs, “I’ve heard a few things, I guess. The other supers don’t have a lot of nice things to say about you, you know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hah! Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. So if they’ve warned you off me, why do you never shoo me away when I run into you? Hell, you’re the one who called </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> to look through that warehouse with you!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like working with you.” Spidey hesitates for barely a moment before adding, “Wade.” He smiles shyly. “You’re not a bad guy, and you’re willing to follow my rules when I ask.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade leans forward, stacking his now empty plate on top of the three other empty ones sitting on the coffee table. “I can keep my bullets to myself. Most of the guys you go after aren’t big time baddies anyway. It’s the human traffickers and kiddie rapists that I save my real hatred for.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, just don’t invite me on missions where the end goal is to kill people, and I suppose I won’t say anything about it.” Spidey shrugs lightly as he scrapes some syrup off his plate, licking it off his fork. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade can’t help but focus on the cute kitten pink tongue flicking out. “Uh, yeah.” He mutters distractedly. “Yeah, I’ll remember. No un-aliving for Spidey.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His brain runs away with the image, throwing out fantasies of that tongue licking at Wade’s cock the same way, maybe followed by those pert lips stretched out around him. Ugh, Spidey was so hot no matter his gender. That mouth had definitely stayed the same. </span>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
</div><p>
  <span>“Wade?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh huh?” Wade focuses on those lips moving, tongue peeking out to lick at the bottom lip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you paying attention?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade straightens up, sliding his eyes away from the enticing bow of Spidey’s mouth. “Of course I am! No way was I staring at your mouth and imaging your pretty pink tongue doing naughty things.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Deadpool!” Spidey exclaims. “I’m trying to tell you about what I need to get this thing working!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Really? I completely missed it! Wow, sorry. I was fantasizing about your mouth for way longer than I thought I was, really sorry about that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spider-Man sighs in exasperation. “So are you going to be able to get the parts?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What parts?” Wade asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No really, I wasn’t paying attention,” Wade spreads his hands in exasperation. “I was one hundred and ten percent focused on your mouth. If you don’t want it to happen again, maybe don’t lick things where I can see ‘em. Or just- you know. Maybe don’t breathe either? You’re very distracting!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if we hurry up and get me back to being a dude, I’ll be less distracting!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh…” Wade drags out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? You never zoned out on my mouth while I was physically male!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I totally did, you just never noticed before, since we don’t eat together all that often. And anyway, dat ass has always been my favorite spank bank material.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my gosh.” Spider-Man covers his face with both hands, ducking his head down. That attractive blush is spreading over his collarbones again. “Are you serious?” His voice is slightly muffled by his hands as he whines. “I thought you were joking!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade shakes his head very seriously. “Oh no, I would never joke about such a high quality ass.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spidey drags his hands down his face and reaches forward to drop his still half-full plate on top of Wade’s three empty ones. Taking a deep breath, he asks, “So you’re bi?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m an anything and everything sexual! Solidly pan,” Wade grins at him. Aaww, Spidey’s embarrassment is so cute! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um,” Spider-man hesitates and then blurts out in a rush, “I’m bi.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oooh,” Wade gushes. Maybe he might have a real chance with Spidey, after all! This definitely means he’s gonna have to keep trying, at the very least. “Now I know I’m not throwing myself at a wall when I flirt with you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Deadpool!” Spider-Man covers his face again. His face really must be on fire if he feels the need to hide it. But damn, Wade really wishes he could see more of it than just where it stops spreading at his collarbones. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, ah,” Wade waggles his finger playfully. “Did you forget my name already?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just-! Ugh…” Spidey sighs with exasperation. “How long do you think it will take to get the parts?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade shrugs and leans back, thumping his feet up on the coffee table. “Well, I dunno what you need. Give me a list, and I’ll see what I can do. It really shouldn’t take more than a couple days, though, honestly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spidey slumps over. “Crap, I know you said that earlier, but I was really hoping it wouldn’t take that long. I can’t just wear your shirt the whole time!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade lets his eyes slide over Spidey’s body. Wade certainly wouldn’t mind Spider-man sitting around his place for a while in nothing but Wade’s shirt and some shoe strings. It is, hands down, one of the hottest things he’s seen in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> while. Wade hums low in his throat and then leers. “I dunno, I kinda like it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spidey scoffs, and Wade can tell he’s rolling his eyes. Spidey puts his whole upper body into it, so there’s no mistaking the gesture. “Well, now I know for sure I need to get something else to wear.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade laughs. “Aww, you know I mean it in the best way, Webs!”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Peter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Over the next few hours, Peter focuses on poking at the machine and writing out a list for Deadpool. Well, Peter supposes he should start thinking of him as Wade. Multiple times now the other super has reminded Peter to call him by his name instead of his title. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it’s getting late, and Peter is definitely starting to feel how stressful the day has been. He’s exhausted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade’s been wandering around the apartment all evening. He stayed on the couch next to Peter for a little while and yelled at the TV. That hadn’t lasted long before he had grabbed a gun and started cleaning it. That had been distracting. Peter hasn’t ever seen the insides of a gun before and despite how much he doesn’t like them being pointed at people, it was interesting to watch how it came apart and how gently Wade handled it. Not long after that, Wade had wandered into his bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he came back out, he was dressed in civvies. It had shocked Peter a little bit. He always thought that maybe the suit had enhanced some of Wade’s… </span>
  <em>
    <span>attributes. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But the sweatpants and hoodie stretched tightly over Wade’s more than impressive shoulders made it clear that all those muscles where the real deal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was definitely one benefit of Peter’s new girl form and the fact that he was still wearing his mask. There was no way for Wade to see Peter’s staring eyes or the physical effects of seeing such an amazingly built body parading around in front of him. Peter’s reaction would have been embarrassingly obvious in his normal body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the moment, though, Wade is in the kitchen banging around again. Peter’s honestly kind of looking forward to it if what he’s cooking is going to be anything as good as the pancakes from earlier had been. The savory aroma of melting cheese and spices has started drifting out of the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s stomach gives a loud grumble and that’s enough of sitting in the living room for him. He lets the divine smell pull him off the floor, drag him around the couch, and into the kitchen. Peter can’t help but laugh as he walks in. Wade is back to wearing his frilly pink, strawberry dotted apron. The sound of Peter walking into the kitchen has Wade spinning around. Peter sees a smile stretching out his mask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spidey!” he exclaims in delight. “Are ya hungry? I made Korean beef.” He freezes, mask stretching into a parody of horror before he slumps over on himself. “I forgot to ask if you didn’t like anything! It’s got onions and carrots in it. Is that okay? Uh, are you allergic to anything? Like soy or ginger or like-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wade!” Peter interjects, holding up a hand. “Really, it smells amazing. I’m not allergic to anything and all that sounds great.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That has Wade popping back up and swirling around. “Then you’re right on time! It’s done.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade turns back toward Peter with two plates in his hand. This time they’re both piled high with ground beef and vegetables on top of rice instead of heaping stacks of pancakes, but the amount of food is the same. Apparently, Wade always makes food as though he’ll be feeding a crowd. Or, Peter supposes, more than one enhanced metabolism. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No dining table, sorry,” Wade offers, handing Peter one of the plates. “We’ll have to eat on the couch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s fine-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade doesn’t give Peter much of a chance to be polite, exclaiming, “Golden Girls marathon!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter can’t help but snort as he watches the man hurry past and throw himself over the couch, not bothering to walk around it. His apron skirt flutters in the air but miraculously, he manages not to spill any of his meal. Even with his enhanced reflexes, Peter doesn’t think he could reproduce the feat. Sensibly, he walks </span>
  <em>
    <span>around </span>
  </em>
  <span>the couch, settling down next to Wade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not gonna take off the apron?” Peter asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade grins, mask already partly up and food already chipmunking out his cheeks. “I like how cute I look in it! Also, pink is the best color.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter drags his eyes over the outfit, the hoodie tight over his shoulders and grey sweatpants hugging his thighs with the pink and frilly apron highlighting the whole thing. “It does look good on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, right?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” Peter hums, lifting his mask up to his nose and scooping up his first bit, “I’ve never really seen Golden Girls. It’s a little before my time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade’s gasp of outrage makes him smile. He settles in, enjoying the home cooked meal as Wade rambles on about everything that makes Golden Girls amazing and why it is an absolute travesty that Spider-man doesn’t already know this. Wade’s chaotic discourse on all things Golden Girls lasts through second helpings for both of them and 4 episodes of the show before Peter starts to nod off. Wade trailing off into silence has Peter startling awake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wade?” he mumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You- Um, were you going to sleep here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter burrows himself deeper into the warm and nice smelling object he’s resting against. “I’m tired, and I don’t have any clothes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Wade’s voice is more hesitant than Peter has ever heard it before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Peter grumbles. He’s tired. Does Wade </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to keep bothering him? “Do you really not want me to sleep on your couch?” He can’t help the whine that sneaks into his voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, no, but did you want me to stay as your pillow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s eyes pop open at that, the fog lifting from his brain. There is a chest right in front of his nose. The aforementioned warm and nice smelling surface he had been resting his head against is Wade’s side. He scrambles to sit up, scooting himself back against the arm of the couch. “Oh my gosh, Wade, I’m so sorry!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade is sitting very still, head turned toward Peter. “I can stay. I don’t mind being a pillow. I just-” he hesitates. “I wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The idea is tempting, even though Peter knows it is a truly terrible idea. It’s been less than 24 hours since the machine changed him, and it feels like he’s learned more about Wade now than he ever has in the almost two years they’ve periodically patrolled together. It’s more than evident that what Peter had thought was innocent flirting is actually a genuine crush, and Peter certainly doesn’t want to lead the man on! It doesn’t matter how nice he smells, it’s probably not a good idea to ask him to stay and act as Peter’s pillow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’ll be okay.” Peter tries to make himself smaller against the arm of the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The statement seems to break the spell, and Wade throws himself up in a flurry of words. “Okay, I’ll get you a real pillow then!” He’s heading into his bedroom as he speaks. “So a pillow, maybe a sheet… Do you want sheets, Webs? Eh, I’ll just grab some, you can use them if you want…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His words quiet down to a murmur, and Peter can hear him moving around, gathering things up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter sighs to himself. Why does he always have to make things awkward? They had been having a perfectly pleasant night, minus the whole </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong body</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing, up until Peter had nearly fallen asleep on the man. Hopefully the tension will be gone in the morning, Peter thinks a little helplessly as Wade bustles back into the room, arms piled high with bedding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sets it at the other end of the couch from Peter and hovers awkwardly for a moment. “Uh… Okay, yeah. See you in the morning, Spidey!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t give Peter the chance to reply, hurrying into his room and gently closing the door behind himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter contemplates the closed door. He gives up staring quickly though and finally drags his tired body up enough to grab the pillow and shake the blanket out. Flopping back down onto the couch, he pulls the blanket up over his shoulders and resolutely closes his eyes. Nothing will be solved by staring at a closed door. Best to just sleep and see what the morning brings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heck, maybe Peter will even get lucky, and his body will change back while he’s sleeping? The pleasant thought and residual comfort from his short cat nap against Wade’s side swiftly carries him off to sleep. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Wade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It had been a long night for Wade. He had tried to lay down as soon as he’d gone into his room but sleep only came in fits and starts. He finally gave up as his clock ticked over toward 4:30 AM. Good enough, right? It was morning time, and he could make breakfast!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spidey is curled up on the couch when Wade comes out of his room. Well, of course he is. Wade would have heard him moving around if he had decided to leave in the middle of the night. He had left the mask pulled up to his nose, and Wade can see one of his cute little pink feet peeking out from under the blanket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The temptation to pull the blanket a little higher to view some more leg rears its ugly head, and Wade hurries himself into the kitchen and slaps himself upside the head while hissing, “Get it together. Bad Deadpool! We care about consent, remember?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Too bad he can never get his brain to fully cooperate with his ideals. The fantasy of pulling the blanket off completely and seeing a naked female Spidey sprawled out on his couch races through his fevered mind. Nevermind that shirt Wade had given him the day before, nakedness is required for fantasies!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fantasy Wade is trailing his smooth hand up Spidey’s leg as Kitchen Wade pulls eggs and milk out of the fridge. Fantasy Wade is leaning in to kiss those perfect pink lips as Kitchen Wade adds the previously mentioned eggs, milk, and and some salt and sugar into a mixing bowl to blend them all together until smooth. Fantasy Wade lowers himself down over Fantasy Spidey and presses his hips down gently. Kitchen Wade turns on the stove and grabs some bread. He’s just reaching over to move the dish full of eggs and Fantasy Wade has managed to slip his wandering hands down towards Spidey’s quivering stomach, and he’s very busy examining the inside of Fantasy Spidey’s mouth with his tongue when a voice from the doorway shatters the silence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade?” Spidey’s voice is husky from sleep and has Wade flailing wildly, eggs and milk flying into the air and splashing all over the counter and floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Wade spins around, gaping at Spidey. He’s definitely still wearing Wade’s shirt, no matter what Wade’s mind had tried to imagine. “Heeeeyyy. Uh, you’re awake! I mean, of course you are! Don’t worry about what I was thinking, it definitely had nothing to do with your naked body- Wait! Never mind, I didn’t say that, I was only thinking about french kissing- uh, no! Toast!  You like French toast, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade hurries back to the fridge, grabbing more ingredients, slipping on the egg mixture on the floor and narrowly avoiding falling as he flounders his way back towards the counter. He sets everything down safely, turns back to Peter, and claps his hands over his masked mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spider-Man just stares at him, tilting his head slightly to the side as though he’s confused at all this chaos so early in the morning. “Um, what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“French toast.” Wade doesn’t take his hands off his mouth as he speaks so the words come out muffled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spidey stares at him in silence. Wade waits, wondering if he’s going to actually say anything. And hey, maybe Wade should take his hands off his mouth instead of standing there like a simpleton.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like French toast,” Spidey finally offers after nearly a full minute of the awkward staring. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade lets his hands fall. Webs definitely doesn’t seem all the way awake. “How about you go lay back down, and I’ll let you know when they’re done,” Wade shoos one hand at his guest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, okay.” Spidey sounds surprised at the suggestion but still turns and wanders back into the living room. Wade can hear him lay back down after just a few seconds, followed quickly by a heavy sounding breath that isn’t quite a snore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, that had shocked the fantasy right out of Wade’s head. Probably for the best, honestly. If it had gone on for too much longer, Wade might have burned the apartment down. It had definitely happened before, when Wade had let his imagination get the better of him while he was cooking. Those kinds of fantasies were really better in the bedroom and not when he had company, anyway. Things could get a little tight in the pants region, and Wade definitely knew he couldn’t just whip out L’il Deadpool in the middle of the kitchen!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hygiene is important for people who aren’t immortal, after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade sets about cleaning up the mess of eggs on the floor and counter before he mixes up another batch of the egg batter and gets started on his French toast, this time managing to keep his mind on cooking instead of the delicious idea of Spidey draped all over his couch. A few of them might be a little burnt around the edges from Fantasy Spidey trying to entice Fantasy Wade back into a little French kissing, but that’s okay. Wade doesn’t mind eating those. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After setting all the French toast slices on the counter and pulling out his Authentic Canadian Maple Syrup™, Wade finds himself standing at the doorway looking at Spidey passed back out on the couch. He’s making a cute little sound that Spidey will probably insist is most definitely not snoring, and Wade almost doesn’t want to wake him up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, author, this isn’t that hard,” Wade mutters. “We have a lot of stuff to do today! Just get it over with and wake him up! Spidey wanted us to gather up some kind of list he said he was gonna make for us, and I’m thinking I should drag him out to get some clothes that might actually fit, if only because seeing him wandering around in just my shirt is </span>
  <em>
    <span>waaaay</span>
  </em>
  <span> more distracting than I thought it would be.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently Wade wasn’t muttering as quietly as he thought he’d been, though. The sound of Wade’s voice has Spidey stirring on the couch, the shirt slipping up to reveal the creamy skin of his thighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Deadpool?” Spider-Man hums.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh-” Wade gapes. Who can blame him? Honestly, with that much naked leg on display, Wade feels pretty lucky L’il Deadpool hasn’t just escaped its prison cell all on its own! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Food ready?” Spider-Man rolls to his side, masked face turning towards Wade’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh-” Wade’s got nothing going on upstairs right now. All of his blood is too busy trying to escape to his pants instead of powering his brain. Unfortunately, Spidey seems to be waking up enough to notice that something isn’t quite right with Wade at the moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Were you in here for a reason, Wade?” He finally sits up and snaps the words at him in exasperation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seeing Spidey’s sharp movement finally has Wade jolting out of it enough that his eyes jump back up to Spider-Man’s face. The pinched expression has him spinning around to put his back towards Spidey instead. “I’m sorry!” he yelps, smacking a hand over his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s confusion in Spidey’s voice but there’s no way he could have missed where Wade’s eyes had been glued! What was up with that, anyway? Wade’s eyes definitely should have known better. Consent is important and Spidey wouldn’t want Wade to be staring at him like that. Wade would definitely hate it if someone wouldn’t stop staring at him! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean to look, the shirt just slipped up and every time you moved it slipped up a little more and you just have such clear soft looking skin. It’s so pretty. I promise I won’t look again, it was completely an accident, I can go shoot myself right now! The bullet’ll probably kill the memory!” He cuts off the words tumbling out of his mouth, deciding to put words to action. Wade reaches into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulls out the handy-dandy gun that he always keeps with him, bringing it swiftly up to his head. A bullet will definitely teach his brain to not misbehave, right? Well, it’s never worked before, but it certainly won’t hurt to try again! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” The word comes in a shrill voice from behind him, stopping him right as he moves his finger over the trigger. “Wade, stop! Please don’t kill yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade hesitates.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, Wade. Really, you don’t have to do that. Can you turn around?” There is a pleading tone in Spider-Man’s voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade lets the gun fall back to his side, turning halfway around and looking suspiciously over his shoulder at Spider-Man. He’s got the blanket pulled up to his waist, covering those overly enticing legs, and his face has softened. “I don’t want you to shoot yourself just because you looked at my legs,” he offers gently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade feels his face twist in negation. “You don’t want me to look. You don’t want to stay like this! I need to respect your boundaries, which I’ve been doing awfully the whole time you’ve been here!” He brings the gun back up. “I need to do better. This will help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop!” Spidey throws himself up and over the back of the couch, ripping the gun out of Wade’s hand. “Stop,” his voice is softer the second time. “I really don’t want you to kill yourself over me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade blinks at Spider-Man. He’s half sitting on the back of the couch, legs on either side of Wade’s hips, with the gun held out to the side. Wade could grab it back, Spidey is super tiny in his new and more feminine body, but Wade can’t help but just stand there in shock. No one’s ever wanted to save him from death before, least of all saving him from death at his own hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not for forever. I’ll be back in just a few minutes,” Wade points out reasonably. Maybe Spider-man forgot. “It would take away the last hour or so of memories and give me a teeny-weeny reset nap, that’s all.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay to look sometimes. I’m not angry about it.” Spidey leans even more into Wade’s space, sliding down a little to slip the gun back into the pocket it came from. Wade gasps at the brush of fingers against his hip, tensing up. L’il Deadpool is more than noticeable, despite all the high emotions in the last few minutes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spidey’s pert lips quirk up in a teasing smile. “Involuntary reactions happen to us all, right?” He hops down from the back of the couch, close enough that Wade can feel heat radiating off of him, but not quite so close that they can touch. “Breakfast is done, right?” he chirps, craning his head back to look up at Wade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wow, Wade hadn’t quite noticed how very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>tiny Spidey’s current form is. He’s gotta be a good foot shorter than Wade right now. And this particular view is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>helping to calm things down in the pants department. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spidey’s smile gets a little wider. “Wade?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade jumps, blinking rapidly and taking a step back. “Yes! Breakfast, I made breakfast!” He waves a hand vaguely behind him, at the kitchen. “French toast, like I said earlier. You, uh, you like French toast?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Absolutely.” Spidey slips around him, heading into the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade is left blinking stupidly at his couch and with a dick hard enough that he thinks he might actually have to do something about it before he joins the other man in the kitchen.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Webs?” Wade turns and calls into the other room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” His voice drifts out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be right back, I just gotta- um, yeah. You go ahead and eat, I’ll be there in a couple minutes!” Wade looks ruefully down at his tented pants. Yeah, he’s definitely going to need to spend some quality time with himself in the bedroom real quick. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Peter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter lets a small smile drift over his face as he hears the bedroom door close. He knows what Wade is probably going to be doing in there. He had seen the tent Wade had been pitching. How could he have missed it? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He feels more than a little weird and not quite right for using his new body to his advantage, but Peter just couldn’t stand the thought of seeing Wade kill himself, especially over something as simple as ogling a little thigh. And hey, it was a surprisingly neat ego boost to see how easily he could make Wade react. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grabbing one of the prepared plates, Peter slathers it with syrup and wanders his way back into the living room. Might as well watch some television while Wade, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ahem, </span>
  </em>
  <span>takes care of something in the bedroom. Peter has hopefully managed to make a list of all the things he needs to get the machine from the night before working again. As soon as they finish eating breakfast, he’ll give it to Wade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Flicking the TV on, he sits back to savor his French toast and wait for Wade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s only a few minutes later when Wade slinks out of his bedroom. “Hey!” He awkwardly waves at Peter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter can’t help the grin that spreads over his face. For being a notorious mercenary, Wade can be awfully adorable sometimes. Peter waves back before cramming another bite of breakfast into his mouth. “This is super good, by the way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That seems to break through the other man’s awkwardness. He straightens his shoulders, and Peter can see a smile in the way the mask stretches over his face. “Well, of course! Cooking is my third best skill!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Third best?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade hops a little in place but doesn’t answer before he starts heading toward the kitchen. Coming back out with his own plate piled high, he flops down next to Peter. Holding up a finger, he says, “Number one is un-aliving people!”  A second finger comes up to join the first, “Number two is sexy times. I could rock your world, baby.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade!” Peter can’t help but laugh, knocking his shoulder against Wade’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade reaches up and pulls the bottom of his mask up, baring his grinning mouth. “What? It’s absolutely the truth!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just-!” Peter laughs again. “Just eat your awesome breakfast.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade snickers, but stops teasing Peter long enough to start Hoovering his way through his first plate of food.  Peter can’t help but keep glancing over at him as they eat. He’s never noticed how bright Wade’s smiles could be before now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Peter began, “I did manage to get that list finished for you on what I will need to get the thingy working again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade snorts. “Thingy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, come on, I don’t know what to call it!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade turns his grin back toward Peter, and he’s struck again by how amazing Wade’s smile is. “Machine, gender shifter, silver contraption… Come on, Webs! You can do better than </span>
  <em>
    <span>thingy!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah.” Peter leans forward enough to grab his list off the coffee table, slipping it closer to the mercenary. “Anyway, here. You think you can for sure get me all these?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade hums softly as he grabs the list and peers down at it. “Weeeelll,” he drags the word out. “The short answer is, yes. The longer answer is yes, too, but it will </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> take a few days.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Crap.” Peter lets his head fall back against the back of the couch. “I was hoping that wouldn’t be the case.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I warned you last night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had amazing dreams that included waking up and being in my male body again. I really, really hoped that you were just exaggerating,” Peter sighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll do my best, Buttercup, but no promises.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you will, ‘Pool. I just… I just want to go back to normal. This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>something I ever imagined happening to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I dunno, I don’t think I’d hate it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So far, I guess it hasn’t been bad, but I just don’t feel right!” Peter exclaims. He pulls his legs up onto the couch, pulling the shirt over his knees and wrapping his arms around himself tightly. Even sitting like this feels weird. He’s glad that the female form the machine gave him isn’t super well endowed, but it still feels odd and would be just plain wrong to have any more extra bits of flesh press against his knees. He scowls darkly down at the floor. “And I have to pee! I don’t even want to know how different that is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade barks out a laugh, and Peter turns his scowl toward him. “What?” Peter snaps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just-” Wade waves his hand around a little helplessly. “I guess I just hadn’t thought of having to pee without a penis. It’s an interesting thought.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For you, maybe! I don’t want to have to deal with it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just go pee, baby boy,” Wade shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter can hear the exasperation starting to creep into Wade’s voice, but he just can’t help how this situation is making him feel! “That’s the problem.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not a boy!” Peter all but wails the words, burying his head in his knees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.” Wade sets his plate down and turns on the couch, hesitantly settling a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get this solved. You’re a super genius, and I can track anything down, alright? You go pee and while you’re in there, I’ll put out a few calls and see what I can do about getting these parts asap!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter brings his head up as Wade decisively pats his shoulder a few times. He can feel his face doing something complicated, but it feels like too much effort to try and control his expression, especially since half his face is still covered by a mask. Breathing in deeply, Peter nods. “Okay. Okay, yeah. I can handle going pee. I’m a big boy, it’s not complicated, even with different parts.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another pat comes down on his shoulder before Wade gives him a gentle shove. “Thatta boy! You go do that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade is already pulling out his phone as Peter drags himself off the couch and starts toward the bathroom, feet feeling like lead. By the time he makes it into the brightly lit room and stares down at the toilet, he can hear Wade talking. He’s a little surprised at how clean the bathroom is when he gets in there. There’s barely any blood left, only a little on the ceiling where Wade must not have been able to reach to clean. He must have cleaned last night while Peter was sleeping. The surprise doesn’t distract him for long, though.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter stares at the toilet. Such an innocuous piece of furniture shouldn’t be this intimidating! There’s one in every household, Peter’s used one a million times before. He can do this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few more minutes drag on and Peter doesn’t move. He can hear Wade finish his first call and start another one in the other room. Exasperation suddenly fills Peter. This is ridiculous! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Peter</span>
  </em>
  <span> is being ridiculous. All he has to do is sit down and let nature do its thing. He hasn’t gone pee in at least 12 hours at this point, and his body is well and truly starting to scream that waiting any longer isn’t going to be possible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He finally spins away from the toilet, pulls up the shirt, and sits down. That wasn’t so hard, after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, nothing actually happens after he sits down. Of course not. There are muscles and- other things. He has to tell his muscles to relax enough to actually pee. Unfortunately, no matter how desperately his body is advertising it needs to let go, he just... </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck,” he mumbles quietly to himself. At least Wade isn’t close enough to be scandalized by the word. For all that the man himself swears like it’s going out of style, he’s oddly prudish about Peter’s language. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But thinking about Wade isn’t getting Peter any closer to his goal right now. Giving up, he leans over enough to turn the water on in the sink. The second he hears the water hit the bowl, that does the trick, his body finally lets go. It’s an intense relief, and Peter can’t help groaning gratefully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn’t feel all that different, either. Faster and certainly louder, but peeing is peeing, right? Now that the goal has been accomplished, Peter feels silly at how much he was panicking about using the bathroom. Of course, he still has to wipe, but small successes need to be celebrated! Grabbing the roll of toilet paper and pulling off a handful, he just looks at it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, it can’t be that different, right? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reaching under himself, he swipes the toilet paper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And instantly jumps, dropping the paper in the toilet as he fights not to let out a very undignified squeal. Holy crap, that felt weird! Whatever, that’s enough. He’s not damp anymore, he doesn’t need to do anything else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Standing up, he quickly turns toward the sink to wash his hands. Looking up at where there should be a mirror, he’s glad again that Wade had removed it. He doesn’t know how he would feel seeing his face changed to a more feminine shape and it’s a relief that he doesn’t have to test himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Drying his hands off on the towel hanging on the door, he looks at the mask still sitting on the edge of the counter. If he’s going to be staying here for a few days, it really would be easier if he just leaves the mask off. He doesn’t have to tell Wade his name, and his face is just different enough that the other super probably won’t recognize him on the street once he changes back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Decision made, he leaves the mask where it is as he walks out of the bathroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Peter gets back into the living room, Wade is still on the phone. That’s okay, though. One plate of French toast really hadn’t been enough, anyway. Peter heads for the kitchen, going behind the couch so he doesn’t interrupt the conversation. He’ll grab another plate and then Wade can tell him what the plan is for the day after he gets off the phone. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Wade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wade sighs as he pulls the phone away from his face, hitting the disconnect button. He had heard Webs moving around behind him and into the kitchen. It sucks that Wade doesn’t have any better news for him, but Wade’s connections hadn’t been all that helpful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks up as he hears Webs move into the room and round the couch to sit. Shock has the still masked man clapping his hands on his face and diving for the floor as soon as he lays eyes on the man sitting on the couch. Spider-Man isn’t wearing his mask!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Spidey!” Wade calls from face down on the floor, eyes squeezed shut under his own mask and hands still over his face. “You lost your mask somewhere!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hears a snort from the couch. “I didn’t lose it, Wade. I took it off on purpose.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” That didn’t sound right. Spidey was nearly pathological about people finding out his identity. He wouldn’t even eat around Wade for the first six months they’d known each other. Wade tentatively pulls his hands away from his face, sitting up and turning his head to face Spider-Man. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why-” Wade can’t take his eyes off Spidey’s face, “Why would you take your mask off where I can see you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spider-Man just smiles at him and the movement draws Wade’s eyes down to his lips. They seem so much more mesmerizing than usual with no mask sitting atop the man’s nose to distract from the curve of them. The smile pulls his cheeks up to show off his visible dimples. Wade lets his eyes trail over them, following the smooth line of his cheek up to the sparkling hazel eyes. He’s stunning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A peal of laughter startles Wade, and he blinks rapidly. “What?” he asks, surprised at the sound. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were speaking out loud.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Wade says blankly before he grins and ducks his head a little bashfully. Hopefully he hadn’t said anything too incriminating. “Well, it’s the truth. You’re really something to look at.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spider-Man shakes his head, still softly smiling. “It’s probably just the effect of the machine. I bet I don’t really look the same. I can tell the shape of my face is different.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How much of your face did it end up changing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, I haven’t seen it,” Peter arches his brows at Wade before he shakes his head and laughs. “Enough that I’d bet you wouldn’t be able to pick me out on the street, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade scoffs. “I don’t know, those are some pretty distinctive looking dimples!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That same blush Wade had been admiring last night shades over Spidey’s face, and Wade watches avidly as it spreads over those cute dimples and down to his collarbones. He can’t help the sound that bursts out of him, “Aaaww.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blush gets deeper, and Spidey shoves at him. “Shut up!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade laughs and lets himself be pushed back. His eyes don’t leave Spider-Man’s face as the other man sets about eating the plate of French toast he brought with him from the kitchen. Wade’s fascinated by the movement of all the muscles that move in his face as he eats. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?!” Spider-Man asks with exasperation after a minute of the silent staring. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade quickly looks away. “Ah, sorry. Honestly, I thought I would never get to see your face. It’s a little hard to believe you trust me this much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a clink of silverware against a plate and then the other man’s voice rings out in the room, “Wade…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” Wade waves his hand around. “Don’t worry about it, I didn’t mean to make it weird.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I trust you, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The soft words have Wade’s eyes jumping back toward Spider-Man’s face. That soft smile is back and directed at Wade. As he looks up, Spidey keeps talking. “Why do you think I asked you to go with me yesterday? I know you’ll always have my back. I just-” Spider-Man’s eyes jump away for a moment before his face firms up in resolve, and he looks back at Wade. “My name is Peter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade gapes. “Spidey, you can’t just go around telling me something like that!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A shy smile graces Spidey’s, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Peter’s, </span>
  </em>
  <span>face. “I really do trust you. I know you wouldn’t out me to other people. It’s okay.” He laughs and a grin brightens his face. “Just make sure to keep it to Spidey or Webs during masked team ups, yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course!” Wade would never out a fellow mask! That was fully against the bro code, and Wade isn’t about that life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s when Peter is finishing up the last few bites of his food that Wade finally manages to shake himself out of his dazed stupor long enough to remember that there were other things they needed to do that day. “Oh!” He bursts out, startling Peter enough that he jumps a little.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade! You can’t just do that!” Peter immediately starts scolding him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doing what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t just scare me like that! I almost ended up on the ceiling!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gasp!” Wade smushes his own face to go along with the word. “That would have been the cutest thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter points the fork at him, scowl twisting his lips. “Absolutely not. I hate when that happens.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade can’t help the quiet little high pitched sound that escapes his throat. The idea is just </span>
  <em>
    <span>so cute, he can’t even. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just, Peter on the ceiling in Wade’s shirt and nothing else, cute little glare directed down at him. The image is enough to have Wade wishing he had actually startled Peter to the point it had become reality. He probably would have flipped his plate through the air, and Wade </span>
  <em>
    <span>also</span>
  </em>
  <span> probably would have gotten even more flashes of smooth, pale thigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade smiles at Peter, hands still clasped to his face as the fantasy swirls through his brain, “Hmm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you have a reason for nearly causing me to jump out of my skin, or was it just because?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!” Wade lets his hands fall. “I had a reason.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter stares at him expectantly, exasperation visibly building as Wade just grins back at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Were you going to tell me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell you what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter lets out a noise like a steam kettle. “The reason you startled me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Yeah! We need to go out and make sure this guy I know has one of the things you need.” Wade lets himself flop back against the couch, turning his eyes away from Peter. He’s not gonna be able to get the image out of his head unless he focuses on something else. Staring at Peter’s scowling face is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not helping.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What!?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade looks back over at Peter at the tone. Peter is gaping in shock, fork almost falling out of his hand as his grip relaxes. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>, what?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t go anywhere like this!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade tilts his head, looking Peter over, then tilts his head the other way and looks Peter over again. Nope, still nothing Wade can see that would require the man to stay in the apartment. “What am I missing here?” He finally asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you kidding me?” Peter exclaims. “Not only am I physically a girl right now, but I’m wearing nothing but your shirt!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade waves his hand dismissively. “No one is gonna know you’re not supposed to be a girl. Anyway, I have a solution to the clothing problem. We’re going shopping!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? No! Wade, I already said I don’t want to go shopping as a girl!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Wade isn’t listening, already taking Peter’s plate away and grabbing his arm to pull him off the couch. “Come on, I have some sweatpants you can try to roll up.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Peter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter pouts at the rack of clothing in front of him. In the corner of his eye he can see Wade excitedly rummaging through the packed hangars, pulling out something every few seconds and throwing it over the already heaping pile growing on his arm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sweat pants that Wade had forced on him don’t fit by any stretch of the imagination. They are still sagging at his waist even after Peter had rolled them up three times. He ended up retying the makeshift shoelace belt over them, and even after that, he still had to roll the pant legs up a few times. He feels like a little kid playing dress up and all the staring eyes on the subway hadn’t helped at all. Why had he let Wade persuade him out of the apartment, again?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, and this one! It’s so cute,” Wade croons, grabbing yet another item to throw over his arm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade!” Peter exclaims, “How much do I really need? I really hope this whole situation doesn’t last long enough for me to need more than one or two outfits.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Wade turns to Peter. His shoulders droop and he pulls the pile in to clutch his other arm around it. “Oh. I guess I forgot a little that this isn’t just a fun shopping trip we’re on together.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we just go see if this stuff fits?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That question has Wade perking back up. “Almost! We need to go get some pants to go with the shirts!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade spins around and rushes between the racks. Peter sighs, letting his head fall back on his shoulders. He hates shopping even for his normal self on a good day. The last forty five minutes in the store had been more than a little frustrating, just trailing around Wade’s large form that’s somehow managed to flit from rack to rack. Straightening back up, he sets off after the other man. Hopefully Wade will manage to just grab a few sizes of pants, and it will just take a few more minutes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s hope isn’t very high, but he can hold the wish close, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reaching Wade, Peter watches as the big man once again flutters around like a butterfly, alighting on one rack of clothes, picking up one or two items before moving onto the next, chattering to himself the whole time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This one! Just look at the patterns, I love it. Oooh, and this one. It has pink flowers! Those are my favorite. Fucking shit, Pete, come here!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sudden call of his name jolts Peter out of his bemused daze, and he moves closer. “What’s up?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade brandishes a dress in Peter’s face causing him to shy back a little. There’s a giant grin stretching the edges of Wade’s mask as he speaks. “Look! Look at this dress, it’s so perfect. You would look amazing in it! And the pattern! It was made for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s shaking his head before Wade is even halfway through his explanation. Okay, yes, the dress is cute. It’s pattern is based on his Spider-Man suit, red and blue with white spider web lines spreading out over it. It doesn’t matter, though. No way is Peter going to wear a dress. He isn’t a girl, no matter his current shape! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No way am I going to wear a dress! Come on, Wade. I’m not really a girl, I don’t want to go out of my way to look the part. I just need something to wear that actually fits and that’s it!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter can tell his outburst startles Wade. The other man pulls back and he pulls his arms into his body again, hunching his shoulders over the clothing tower in his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right,” Wade mumbles. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to forget again. I’ve got some pants now; we can head over to the fitting rooms.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter reaches out and brushes his hand against Wade’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words have Wade straightening and visibly pulling on a facade of cheer. “No! Nope, no, don’t worry about it. This is about you, the clothes are for you, and you get to wear what you want. I’m sorry I keep forgetting.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope! Come on, let’s go.” Wade grips Peter’s arm and gently starts towing him toward the dressing rooms. “You gotta try these on, we don’t know your size. And just pick out however many you want, I got this. I dragged you here, you let me do all the picking out, so you don’t need to worry about having to pay. Hell, I’m the reason this even happened in the first place.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter stumbles to a stop as they reach their destination, and Wade turns to tip the pile of clothes into his arms. He doesn’t move except to grip them as he stares at Wade and shakes his head. “Wade, no, this isn’t your fault. It was an accident!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The eyes of Wade’s mask squeeze closed. “I should have been more careful. I was the one who kicked that machine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Accidents happen to everyone.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not to you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It isn’t the same!” Peter wants to reach out so badly but there are just too many clothes in his arms. Wade’s eyes open, and he looks back at Peter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright, baby boy. Just… let’s just get you something to wear, okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay.” Peter lets himself be pushed toward one of the rooms. This probably isn’t the place to talk about it, anyway. With one last glance at Wade, Peter lets himself into the tiny dressing room and deposits his armful on the provided bench before closing the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That could have gone better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Closing his eyes, Peter draws in a deep breath and holds it as long as he can before letting go. It’s fine. Everything </span>
  <em>
    <span>would be</span>
  </em>
  <span> fine. Peter just needs to get through the next few days, fix the machine, and then he’ll be back to normal. Once Peter has his body back to its normal configuration, he can show Wade that he isn’t angry. It wasn’t Wade’s fault and no matter how difficult this situation is turning out to be for Peter, from a mental standpoint at least, he doesn’t blame Wade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Opening his eyes, he lets his gaze fall onto the pile of clothes. There’s one thing he can do to make Wade feel a little better, at least. The dress is right on top of the pile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing again, Peter reaches out and grabs it. Shaking it out, he turns towards the mirror and holds it up against his chest. Forcefully ignoring the dissonance he feels as he looks at himself, he tries to guess at the fit. It comes to the middle of his sides without stretching too much and falls down just past his knees. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> fit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At this point, it doesn’t matter anymore. If he’s going to do this, he needs to just get it over with, like ripping off a bandaid. He sets the dress back down, unties the laces holding his current outfit up, and yanks the shirt off over his head. The sweatpants fall down his legs with nothing more than a twitch of his hips, and he steps out of them. Standing naked, he very carefully avoids looking at the mirror. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knows his penis is gone, no need to court panic any longer than necessary by dwelling on the loss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reaching out, he grabs the dress and tugs it up over his head. It fits. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course </span>
  </em>
  <span>the one item in the whole pile he really didn’t want to wear fits. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking up, he turns to fully face the mirror. It does better than </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> fit; it fits perfectly. The dress falls daintily over his knees and is neither too tight nor too loose. It doesn’t bunch anywhere the same way any of his other outfits have. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trying to look impartially at the whole situation, as though he isn’t seeing himself in the mirror, Peter can see the reflection of a beautiful young woman. The color and fit of the dress are flattering and hug her in all the right places. Why can’t he just enjoy the aesthetic of the dress without it overwhelmingly reminding him of what he doesn’t have right now?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He snaps his eyes closed, breathing deeply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s fine. This is fine. It’s just a dress. Wade is a man and wears dresses all the time. It doesn’t say anything negative about who Wade is, and it certainly doesn’t say anything about Peter, even in his current feminine shape. Peter can wear a dress to show Wade that he doesn’t need to feel guilty about the shopping trip </span>
  <em>
    <span>or </span>
  </em>
  <span>his excitement.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning away from the mirror, he slips the dress back over his head and sets it aside. He’ll get it. It’s just one dress, and it does look good. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But relief still flows through him as he reaches for the next item of clothing, a simple pair of black sweatpants. That is infinitely more like it. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Wade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wade jitters in place as he sits on one of the benches placed in front of the dressing rooms. This is terrible. He hates sitting still in public in the first place, but he’s still feeling a little internally achy from all the feels he stirred up a few minutes ago. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It certainly doesn’t help that everyone passing by gives him a double take before scurrying away. Okay, yeah, it probably isn’t every day that people see a huge man in a hoodie and a full mask covering their entire head, but whatever. Did they have to act so weird about it? At least he’s not forcing anyone to look at his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade’s managed to move past his guilty sadness and is working on a boiling pool of irritation at the stream of skittish pedestrians by the time he hears the door of a dressing room open. The sound has him instantly straightening up and turning to look, a jolt of emotion flashing through him. He couldn’t say if it was dread or excitement, but either way, he was feeling it and his earlier irritation was easily banished. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s definitely shocked glee that rushes through him when he gets his first look at Peter, though. Wade lets a bright grin spread over his face. Peter’s actually wearing the dress! Wade had kept ahold of it through sheer wishful thinking and the knowledge that Peter would probably just ignore its presence amongst the rest of the clothes for him to try on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, Peter is wearing it, like actually stepped out of the dressing room with it on and everything!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The glee bubbles up and overflows, erupting into a little cheer, “See! I was right, you look fantastic!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter doesn’t seem quite as enthusiastic, a little frown gracing his face as he’s confronted with Wade’s upbeat words. “You think it looks good?” Peter glances down at his body, frown deepening further. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sweetie, it looks great on you,” a cheerful voice pipes up behind Wade. He half turns and sees the employee standing at the counter sorting clothes. She smiles at them. “It would probably look better with a little support, though. You’re,” she hesitates, making a funny little </span>
  <em>
    <span>ahem</span>
  </em>
  <span> sound and gesturing at Peter, “um, a little obvious.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade turns back to Peter, looking him over. Letting his eyes drift down Peter’s body, he doesn’t see anything that would need changing. It looks great to Wade, enticingly tight in just the right places. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Peter asks, confusion in the furrow of his forehead and Wade clasps his hands over his mouth to hold in a squeal. Peter is seriously the cutest. Though really, Wade doesn’t get it either, turning his own inquisitive look back towards the store worker. It makes him a little sad to know that she probably isn’t getting the full impact of the look through his mask.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She waves again, exasperated, “A bra. Your nipples are showing?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse you?” Wade snaps at her, offended. Where does she get off being rude like that? “Did we ask you for your opinion?” She throws a searing glare at him, but who cares about her anyway! Wade definitely doesn’t and if Spidey wasn’t right here, Wade might have really shown her just how much he doesn’t care about her, no matter how much she glares. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade didn’t manage to intervene soon enough though. His eyes dart back towards Peter when he hears a funny gasping sound come from his direction. Wade grimaces. Peter’s eyes are wide and glistening with his mouth opening and closing like he has no idea what to say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You- what- you- I don’t-” he starts to stutter. He suddenly clamps his mouth shut, shaking his head sharply and turns a venomous glare back on Wade as he wraps an arm over his chest. “Absolutely not! Wearing the dress is bad enough, there’s no </span>
  <em>
    <span>way </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’ll let anyone talk me into wearing a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bra!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade puts his hands up in supplication, taking a step back. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, baby boy, no I would never! You wear whatever the fuck you want; I wasn’t going to say anything about a bra. No way, you don’t need it. No one really </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> bras. It doesn’t matter if you’ve got lady parts or otherwise!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The glistening in his eyes has turned into tears welling up and starting to drip down Peter’s face. Wade can’t stand it, stepping forward again and reaching out. “No, no! Don’t cry!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s hands fly to his face, scrubbing over his eyes. “I’m not crying! I’m just- I’m not really a woman, Wade, I can’t deal with this! I can’t- I’m… I’m not you, Wade. I can’t just roll with the punches and not let something like that bother me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade flinches. He hadn’t been expecting that particular blow, and it manages to hit hard.  “Peter…” he says softly. He finally lets his hand move forward that final inch, settling on Peter’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. This is my fault, I shouldn’t have even looked at the dress.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” Peter’s hands drop, and Wade can see the frustration in his face as he shoots a venomous look toward the pouting sales person. “It’s fine. I’m getting it! You like it, and you’re right; it’s perfect. I can’t promise I’ll wear it again, but I’m getting it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter takes a deep breath, chest hitching slightly with suppressed tears as he says again, softer this time, “I’m getting it.” He nods firmly, offers Wade a tremulous smile, and turns back to the dressing room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The second the door softly shuts behind him, Wade spins to face the sales lady and stomps closer, deliberately leaning into her space and looming. “Next time someone asks how an outfit looks, you say it’s great and nothing else, you get me?” He waves an Italian hand for emphasis.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fear quickly replaces the shocked confusion that had been on her face before she stiffens her spine, determination visibly settling over her. “Sorry about that, sir.” Her voice is full of saccharine bitterness. The politeness is nothing more than a thin veneer over her obvious irritation. Wade narrows his eyes at her and leans further into her space. She flinches momentarily before firming her stance, scowling up at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t know what someone might be dealing with, you don’t know what someone might be looking for,  and, quite frankly, you don’t know anything! Keep your opinions to yourself,” Wade drops his voice to a hiss, trying to make sure Peter won’t hear him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman bares her teeth in a viciously fake smile, and grits out, “Have a nice day.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade snarls softly but turns away and moves closer to the dressing rooms, leaning next to the door Peter had gone behind. He crosses his arms and glowers at the woman. She pointedly ignores him, turns away, and returns to jerkily folding clothes. Luckily Peter doesn’t take long. He’s put on a pair of loose fitting sweatpants and one of the plain tshirts Wade had grabbed. He’s also got a small handful of clothes in his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter startles at seeing Wade so close but quickly reaches up and grips his arm. “This is more comfortable. I’ll just cut off the tags, but yeah, I’m ready. Can we just go?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, Petey pie. We don’t have to get anything else.” Wade smiles at Peter before turning and walking toward the registers, throwing one last nasty look at the rude woman as they go. She manages to ignore it, but Wade will remember her. Maybe he’ll catch her some day when Peter’s not with him and then he can really show her the consequences of irritating Deadpool. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I freaked out,” Peter offers softly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade shakes his head, “No, no. Don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about </span>
  <em>
    <span>her. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She’s just a rude plot device, and she’ll vanish into the ether as soon as we’re gone! Hell, she didn’t even get a name.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? She definitely has a name, Wade, she was wearing a nametag-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade’s shaking his head and moving his hand in a chopping motion, interrupting Peter and trying to walk faster. “No! Nyet! Spanish no! Already gone!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s still holding Wade’s arm, but he starts to crane his head back as though trying to look. Wade lightly shakes his arm. “No, seriously, forget about her.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter stops trying to look behind them and shoots a bemused look at Wade. “What do you mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>plot device</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, don’t worry about it, sweetums,” Wade smiles and waves his hand dismissively. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They make it up to the registers without any more incidents, and there’s a short standoff over who gets to pay for the clothes. Wade wins by dint of being more physically intimidating, the cashier meekly taking his card when he looms over the counter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter complains the whole walk back to the subway and keeps on complaining even once they’re sitting, but that’s okay. Wade’s just pleased that Peter doesn’t seem sad anymore. He must be smiling a little too much at Peter where he sits on the bench, though, because Peter cuts himself off mid sentence and gives Wade a suspicious look. “What?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade’s smile spreads into a grin. “Nothing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s suspicious look intensifies, but Wade lets the silence drag out. Finally Peter sighs, “Fine. Where are we going, anyway?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have a guy who can get the stuff you need.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay?” Peter drags the word out. “Does he need more than what you already told him? Why do we need to go </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> him?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Weasel’s…,” Wade hesitates before shrugging. “Well, I’ve known him for a long time, but he doesn’t do anything out of the goodness of his black little heart. I’m not gonna negotiate pay over the phone, and I want to threaten him a little, get him to go faster than a snail’s pace getting all this stuff.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade!” Peter exclaims.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You brought me with to go threaten someone? I thought you wanted to make sure he had what I needed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yeah, that too,” Wade waves the clothing bag around dismissively, narrowly avoiding clipping the person sitting behind him in the face. “He says he’s got some of it already. I just wanted you to check it out; make sure it’s what you need.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter frowns at him but nods. “Okay, I can do that.” He scrubs his hands down his thighs nervously, looking around. “Are we almost there?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uuuuh,” Wade looks over at the scrolling sign above the doors. “Yeah, just one more stop it looks like.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, good,” Peter offers Wade a smile that looks more like a grimace, wrapping his arms around himself. The motion pulls the shirt tight over Peter’s curvy little breasts, and Wade can’t help how his eyes dip down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He drags them away quickly. Petey’s posture makes it obvious that he isn’t comfortable; he doesn’t need Wade perving all over his body. Wade moves forward, squeezing in between Peter and the old lady sitting near him, shoving the old lady out of the way without a care. He ignores her irritated grumbling, tossing his arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter quickly looks up at Wade before looking away again, gripping tighter around his torso. He subtly leans in against Wade, though, so Wade counts it as a win. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just feel like everyone’s staring,” Peter finally mutters. “I know it’s all probably in my head, but I’m ready to be back at your apartment.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade leans his head against Peter’s, smiling at him softly. “Don’t worry sweetie Petey, we’re really and truly almost done and then we’ll go straight back to my place after this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter snorts, eyes darting up to meet Wade’s, who can’t help the grin that stretches his face as he spots the small smile dancing along Peter’s mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really, sweetie Petey is the name you’re gonna label me with?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s wrong with it, huh?” Wade giggles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter just smiles wider and shakes his head. But he doesn’t lean back or push Wade away, so Wade’s going to count it as his second win of the day. Only three more and he’ll score a bingo! </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Peter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wade hadn’t been lying about how long it was going to take at Weasel’s. At the next subway stop, he had dragged Peter up the stairs and into the sleaziest bar Peter had ever had the misfortune to walk into. Peter doesn’t have much time to even look around at the dark and definitely equally as sleazy interior before he’s being introduced to the bartender. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatdaya want, Wade? I told you it would take a few days to get it all,” the bartender gripes, aggressively wiping down the counter with an obviously dirty rag. Peter wrinkles his nose as the smell of tequila wafts up from the liquid the man is spreading around. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey now, Weas,” Wade says slyly. “I just wanted to see if there is anything I could do to make it a little faster.” There’s a promise of violence on the edge of his voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Weasel just scoffs. “If you kill me, you definitely aren’t getting the things you need.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s darts his eyes back and forth between the two men as they continue to trade barbs and insults. He’s never actually seen two people who claim to be friends interact with quite this much repressed animosity before. Peter’s attention is focused back on the conversation a moment later as Weasel asks something that clearly offends Wade because he drags Weasel half over the counter and points a knife at his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t talk about him like that, you get me?” Wade jabs the knife against Weasel’s cheek for emphasis, and Peter darts forward to grab his arm and tug it away. It’s harder than he expects, and he has to put a little bit of his real strength behind it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, hey, hey! Wade, it’s okay.” Peter sends an embarrassing half smile toward Weasel and gets another scoff for his trouble. Weasel steps back and crosses his arms, leaning against the shelving behind the counter and scowling at both of them. “Weasel, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He jerks his head in a sharp nod, face still twisted in a scowl. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade said you had some of the parts already? Can we just see what you have? I want to make sure it’s what I need.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Weasel heaves a put upon sigh but tosses his rag on the counter. “What, you want me to show you the world now too, Princess Jasmine?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The snarky comment has Wade jerking forward with a snarl, knife first, but Peter manages to catch him with the knife a bare inch away from Weasel’s face. It definitely hadn’t just been a threat that time. If Peter hadn’t managed to catch him, Wade would have put the knife in Weasel’s face. “You’re really fucking pushing it, Weasel,” Wade grinds out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, whatever, dig your panties out of your puss, I’m going,” Weasel bitches, hand coming up and knocking the knife aside before he turns and stomps away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter turns back to Wade. He’s tense still but puts the knife away and glares after Weasel. “Wade?” Peter asks. “Didn’t you say he was a friend of yours?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade just shrugs jerkily and grumbles, “Sometimes I really wonder.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter doesn’t have the chance to reply as Weasel stomps through the side door and drops a small box on the counter. “Here,” he grunts and steps back, crossing his arms and glaring at them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s about to look through it, but Wade stops him, slapping a handful of money down and saying abruptly, “This should cover it. I’ll get back to you if it something isn’t right with any of the parts.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not saying anything else, Wade picks up the box, wraps his arm tightly around Peter’s shoulders, and practically drags him out of the bar. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the heck, Wade? What happened to negotiating?” Peter asks in exasperation as soon as they step outside. Peter can see a scowl pulling down the lines of Wade’s mask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Digging into his hoodie pocket and pulling out his phone to type something, it sounds like his teeth are clenched tight when Wade replies sharply, “Nothing, don’t worry about it, Peter.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really, you’re going with that? I haven’t seen you get this pissed since the last time someone cut off your arm.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing, Wade slips his phone back in his pocket and turns toward Peter. “He just said something that pissed me off. It was rude as fuck, I’m glad you missed it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not going to tell me?” Peter asks after the silence stretches on for a few awkward minutes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I really don’t want to, no.” Wade crosses his arms, mask crinkling in a distinct frown shape. Peter can’t help but wonder how bad it truly was, considering Wade’s closed down body language. Not only are his arms crossed, the box hanging from a few of his fingers, but he’s got his shoulders pulled in and his head turned a little bit away from Peter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, he basically insinuated that you were a whore!” Wade bursts out, startling Peter. The words have him flinching back. This is one thing about being a woman that hasn’t occurred to him before. It really should have, considering that Peter can tell Wade is attracted to him, but someone else thinking about him in that way makes a shiver run through him, and not in a good way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh…” Peter says softly. It’s his turn to wrap his arms around himself, and he pulls away from Wade a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Peter, no, don’t.” Wade reaches for him, hand hovering over his shoulder. “Weasel’s just a dick. Please, please, please don’t freak out! I promise I don’t think of you like that, that’s why I was so pissed!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter lets himself relax a little, shifting so that Wade’s hand settles on his shoulder. He looks up at Wade’s large form hovering protectively close. When he’s this close, Peter can’t help but notice how very tall he really is. 6’2 doesn’t seem like much when Peter’s 5’10, but with how much he’s shrunk from the changes to his body, Wade genuinely towers over him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surprisingly, it doesn’t make Peter feel trapped. He takes a stop closer, resting his side under Wade’s arm and pulling it so that Wade’s wrapped around his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Peter shrugs, leaning into Wade’s warmth, letting his bitterness flow out in a small, harsh laugh. “I guess it never occurred to me how judged women are sometimes. It feels so much more blatant now that it’s happening to me. I mean, that woman at the clothing store just thought it was okay to tell me to wear a bra! Who even does that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade’s arm tightens around Peter. “I’m sorry. Don’t think about her, though. We gotta let her vanish from existence!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter can’t stop the snorting laugh at that, but he still can’t help but sigh and shake his head, “I guess it is what it is. I’m just… really looking forward to fixing that machine.” Pulling in another deep breath, Peter stands straight again. “Alright. Subway and back to your place?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Peter asks, surprise and a little bit of anxiety flowing through him at the chirped word. He is just </span>
  <em>
    <span>so ready</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be done with being out in public. He doesn’t know how much more he can really handle before he freaks out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what I was doing on my phone,” Wade says happily. “I texted a cabby I know, he should be here in just a few minutes. That way you don’t gotta worry about any more rude stares on the subway.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!” Peter exclaims. He looks up at Wade in awe. It shouldn’t be such a shock, but it always catches him completely flat footed when Wade is considerate. “Thank you,” he offers quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade grins at him. “‘Course Peter. No need for you to be uncomfortable if I can make it better.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> only a few minutes more before the cab pulls up. Wade drags Peter in, offering a high five to the cab driver. “Hey, Dopinder my man, thanks for the ride.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, Mr. Pool!” The man has a bright grin on his face as he pulls out onto the road. “Where to?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Home, Jeeves!” Wade points a finger over the man’s shoulder dramatically before slumping back and wrapping the same arm back around Peter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter knows he should object, but it’s so comforting he decides to let it slide. What’s the harm in a little comfort between friends? He also decides not to examine the warm feeling running through him as he scoots a little closer. This is nice. No need to ruin it by overthinking things.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Wade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wade follows Peter into the apartment, letting the door swing shut behind him as he watches Peter set the clothing bags on the floor and flop back onto the couch. He lets out an exaggerated groan as he does, stretching his arms over his head and lifting his whole body in a stretch. Wade’s eyes track down his body, loving the roll and flex of his shoulders and hips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He quickly shakes himself out of it, stepping further into the apartment and setting the box Weasel gave him on the coffee table before joining Peter on the couch. He makes sure to leave a conspicuous foot of space between them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter had let Wade cuddle him close the whole drive back to the apartment, but he didn’t want to push his luck. Peter probably just wanted the comfort of human contact; it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that it came from Wade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter grinning over at him breaks him out of his brooding thoughts, and Wade can’t help but smile back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You hungry?” Peter asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm?” Wade hums, letting his eyes take in the relaxed expression on Peter’s face. He’s so glad that the cab ride helped Peter feel better! He had been getting so stressed out on the subway after shopping, and the bar had just made things worse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade?” Peter asks again. Wade doesn’t really listen to that either, instead only really hearing the lilt in Peter’s voice. Wade lingers on Peter’s eyes. Yeah, they’re brown, but they glimmer with good humor, and it’s just so amazing that Peter has been willing to share his name and face with Wade. It’s been such a </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> time since anyone has trusted Wade this much. Wade let’s his head rest against the back of the couch as he dreamily watches Peter’s mouth move some more, contentment heavy in his stomach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a hazy quality settling over his mind, and Peter’s laugh rings out like bells. It’s so nice. So when Peter’s hand shakes his shoulder a minute later, Wade almost jumps out of his skin, he startles so hard. “What?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter jerks his hand back quickly at the sharp tone in Wade’s voice. “Are you okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Uh, yeah. Sorry, I was just- uh.” How to explain that his brain just kind of checks out sometimes? “Yeah, I’m sorry. I was a little spaced out. What’s up?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A smile turns up the corners of Peter’s mouth as he relaxes. “Nothing, you just hadn’t said anything in a while. That’s not really like you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade straightens up and grabs the remote up off the coffee table, hunching his shoulders a little as he feels a flush of embarrassment envelope his face. He’s so freaking glad for his mask right now. “Nah, I’m good. I was just watching you talk. I kind of forgot to actually listen to you, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter laughs before sliding down to the floor. “Okay, well, I guess I should see if these parts work with the machine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he reaches into the box and starts pulling everything out, Wade goes ahead and turns the TV on. Might as well do something with that remote he had tried to hide behind. It certainly hasn’t done much to shield his embarrassment, but at least it can help him be entertained for a few hours. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, mindless TV isn’t keeping his attention as well as it normally does. His eyes keep drifting over to Peter and the memory of what Peter had said to him at the clothing store keeps running through his mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not like you, Wade. I can’t just roll with the punches and not let stuff like that bother me.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not let stuff bother him? That isn’t Wade at all. Look at him, he still goes everywhere in his mask! Peter was brave enough to take off his mask for Wade, and yet here Wade is, still hiding behind his. He might be in civvies, but he’s still concealing who and what he really is. Guilt starts to settle over Wade. He doesn’t roll with any punches; he just avoids letting any of them hit by not allowing anyone to see where he’s most vulnerable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hell, Wade really can’t even remember the last time he let someone see his face… It had to have been at least a few months ago. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes him a minute of rifling through his swiss cheese memory before something drifts up. Yeah, he’s pretty sure the last time someone had seen his face was months ago, and it hadn’t even been on purpose. His mask had gotten torn during a fight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The memory makes him grimace. It isn’t a good one. He had taken a knife to the face and the knife had caught on the fabric, tearing it away after slashing up the side of his cheek. The guy holding the knife had frozen as soon as he had gotten a glimpse of Wade’s healing face, dropping the knife. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade was probably lucky the vomit had missed him, but he knew it had more to do with the fact that he had seen the guy’s face twisting up in a familiar way and stepped back fast enough. The sick had hit the ground near his shoes instead of landing right on his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah. There was a reason he never showed his face to people. And fuck, it hurt so bad every time someone reacted with horror or disgust. That was a punch that he was never able to just... let slide off him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade had gone home right after slicing that dick’s head off and shot himself. Continued to shoot himself every time he woke up after that until he ran out of bullets in his gun.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lets his gaze rest on Peter again. Would Peter puke at the sight of Wade’s skin? Would he freeze in horror? Would he act like almost everyone who had ever seen Wade’s face before? Right now Peter has a plate pulled off the machine and is innocently switching out the old parts with the replacement parts from Weasel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He almost startles himself when he opens his mouth and words fall out, but as soon as they’re out, he knows he’s going to do it. “You know, Peter… I don’t just let everything roll right off me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter half turns toward Wade and blinks at him, slightly startled, “What?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he focuses hard on Peter’s face. He wants to memorise the soft confusion there, the lack of horror or disgust. “What you said in the store. You said I just let things roll off, I don’t let things bother me. It’s not true, you know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I…” Peter hesitates. “What do you mean?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade looks down and laughs bitterly. “Why do you think I wear this mask everywhere?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess… I guess I never thought about it,” Peter offers softly. “I figured it was for pretty much the same reason I never show people my face. You want to keep your identity secret, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade scoffs, “Hah, no! Pretty much everyone and their dog know who I am. A google search brings up my name, Peter. It’s just- just my face that I keep hidden.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade looks up from the floor and reaches for his mask. He hesitates a moment. This is it. This is his last chance to back out. He sees Peter’s wary but still curious face and knows he isn’t going to, though. Taking a deep breath, Wade squeezes his eyes closed and yanks his mask off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t want to see that expression change. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a beat of time where it seems like the both of them are holding their breath. There’s no sound in the room. In the next second, Wade hears a rustle of clothes. A soft wash of air brushes his face as the warmth of a hand has Wade jerk back against the couch and his eyes fly open in shock. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s up on his knees in front of him, hand outstretched towards Wade. He slowly lets it fall, a rueful look on his face as he settles back to sit on his legs. “Ah, sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Wade asks, shocked. He has no memory of anyone </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>reacting like this before, not since his mutation ruined his skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does it hurt?” Peter asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Wade asks again. He can’t seem to make his brain stop tripping over the fact that Peter looks more curious than anything else. There isn’t even the faintest hint of the disgust and horror that Wade was so positive he would be seeing right now. He can’t understand what’s going through Peter’s head right now. Why isn’t Peter reacting like everyone else? “What are you- Why are you-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does it hurt?” Peter persists. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade blinks incredulously before he finally answers, “I, uh… I mean, yeah. Sometimes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter grimaces at the words before offering a small smile, “Thank you for showing me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade can’t detect anything but sincerity in his tone, and he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>believe it. “How can you just look at me like that?” Wade bursts out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade just gapes at him. Seriously, what the hell? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sweetums,” Wade can’t help the sarcasm coating his tone, “everyone who has ever seen my whole face is at least a little horrified. I’ve had people puke on me enough times that I know to jump back as soon as anyone catches sight of me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s face grows more horrified with every word out of Wade’s mouth. “Wade, no! I would never! You- Wade, I knew what to expect. I’ve seen your skin before, when your suit is torn or when you eat. The only difference now is that I get to see the whole picture.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” That hadn’t ever occurred to him. Wade had </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>seen the typical disgusted reaction from Spider-Man that most people had towards Wade’s skin. “I guess I just never-” Wade breaks off and looks over at Peter’s clear expression. “It really doesn’t bother you?” Wade finally asks a little helplessly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, of course not!” Peter exclaims. “This is just who you are. I figured you needed to know you could trust me before you wanted me to know who you are. It’s just scars. Everyone has scars.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mine move.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter laughs. “I can see that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that’s good to know!” Wade rolls his eyes in exasperation. “For a minute there I thought you might be blind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would you even-?” Peter laughs again, and Wade can’t help but wraps his arms around himself, just looking at Peter’s bright face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It really doesn’t bother you?” he asks quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Peter says firmly. “It was a little disconcerting seeing the scars move the first few times I saw your skin, but I know what your mutation is. It really wasn’t surprising once I thought about it. It really, really doesn’t bother me, Wade.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter looks so sincere, Wade can’t help but want to believe him. Regardless, Peter’s reaction has thrown Wade off what he had wanted to say!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Peter…” Wade hesitates. “I did have a reason other than trust to show you my face. Wait!” He fumbles and tries to back track, “Don’t take that to mean I don’t trust you! I mean- Okay, start over.” Wade shakes his head hard. Gotta get back on track. He avoids looking at Peter as he speaks. “What I meant was, I don’t just let things roll off of me. I hate how I look. I hate how people look at me. I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t really have a secret identity, but no one really knows what I look like.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade holds up a hand to stop Peter. He needs to get this out. “So many- </span>
  <em>
    <span>so many people</span>
  </em>
  <span> have puked almost as soon as they’ve seen my face. I know what I look like, but I just can’t handle being told over and over again that I’m disgusting to look at. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> why I’ve never deliberately shown you my face, Peter. I didn’t want you to be just another one of those people.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Wade finally lets his eyes dart up to take in Peter’s face, Peter is shaking his head and there are tears shining in his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade, no!” Peter reaches out and Wade just manages to keep himself from flinching as his hand lands on Wade’s knee. “You do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> look disgusting and I’m not horrified by what I see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade does flinch a moment later as Peter suddenly moves into his space, sitting up on his knees between Wade’s legs and rests his hand on Wade’s cheek. “It doesn’t bother me,” Peter says, turning Wade’s head so it feels like his eyes are drilling into Wade’s soul. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just-” Wade hesitates before going on, “I’m sorry Peter. I didn’t mean to make this about me. I just wanted you to know I’m not always as strong as you think I am.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter is shaking his head before Wade’s even finished talking. “No. No, you are every bit as strong as I thought you were. Can I-?” he stops and suddenly looks shy. “Can I hug you? I really want to hug you right now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade pulls back, a knot building in his chest. “I don’t want your pity!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not pity!” Peter exclaims. “I just- I just want comfort. For me as much as for you! And I- It’s been such a long day, and I’m glad you trust me enough to show me your face, and I just really, really need to hug you right now. Please.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade narrows his eyes, examining Peter’s face. There is definitely sympathy there, but the tears are gone. There’s still no disgust, either, which Wade is still having a hard time fathoming so maybe Peter is telling the truth. Maybe he really just wants to comfort the both of them. Wade can’t help but want it, too. It’s been so long since someone voluntarily touched him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” he finally says. “Yeah, if you want, you can hug me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the next moment, Peter is clamoring up on the couch and, still on his knees, leaning over and wrapping his arms tight around Wade’s shoulders. Wade can feel his face pressing down against his neck as he gently brings his hands up to rest against Peter’s back. Shivers race down his side, starting from the warmth of Peter’s face and raising goosebumps olong his arms. The sensation feels almost foreign, and he lets his hands rest a little heavier around Peter as the man seems to be trying to press close enough to climb inside Wade’s skin with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re my friend, Wade,” Peter mumbles into Wade’s shoulder.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Wade lets himself believe it, pressing his own face down into Peter’s shoulder and holding on tight. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Peter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Unfortunately, Wade’s… Peter can’t bring himself to even think of the man as Wade’s friend, so not friend, Weasel was telling the truth about how long it would take for him to get the parts Peter needs to hopefully fix the gender swap machine and get himself back to normal. Peter is on the fifth day with a female body shape, despite Wade calling Weasel every day. Peter’s just thankful Wade hasn’t made him leave the apartment again since. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade had gone alone to pick up groceries for them once and still seemed intent on stuffing Peter full of as much food as he was willing to eat. If Wade wasn’t cooking, he was trying to find out every food Peter had ever enjoyed and ordering it for them. The mercenary is turning out to be so much sweeter than Peter had ever imagined the man could be, contrary to how callous and flirty as he had always seemed during their prior team ups. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Wade exclaims as he hits the call end button on his phone with a flourish. “The rest of the parts are there, we can go get them as soon as you’re ready, buttercup.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter wrinkles his nose and laughs. “Not that nickname.” He raises his voice to speak over Wade’s answering </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aw, but Petey, I like it!</span>
  </em>
  <span> And says, “Do you need me to go with you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Wade blinks at him, before smiling softly. “Nah, I can do it, no problem. Might save having Weasel shoving both feet down his throat again, anyway.” Jumping up, Wade stops on his way to the bedroom and laughs, “I wouldn’t wanna have to kill him for his mouth; I’ve kept him around a long time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter isn’t sure if he should laugh or frown as he watches Wade shut the door behind him. He knows Wade is mostly serious about killing Weasel but is it really Peter’s place to try to get Wade to stop killing people, even (or especially) when they piss the mercenary off? Wade has told him before he only takes paid jobs to end bad people, specifically rapists, human traffickers, and murderers. Peter had always just taken that at face value. Unfortunately, Peter has also seen Wade overreact to small offenses from criminals in the street, and only Peter’s quick intervention stopped Wade from killing them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s still thinking about it when Wade bounces out of the bedroom, fully suited up with guns strapped to his thighs and katanas crossed on his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m off, sweetums!” Wade chirps. “I shouldn’t be long, about an hour unless Weasel needs his ass kicked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wade-” Peter speaks up just as Wade is heading out the front door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade swings around and looks at Peter, “What’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t really kill him, would you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter can see the eye holes of Wade’s mask widen. “Weasel? Maybe? I don’t really want to, but that dick doesn’t know when to let up sometimes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that a good enough reason to kill him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade seems stymied by the question. He tilts his head. “I know there’s an answer you’re looking for here, but I don’t think it’s the answer I want to give you.” He lets the door swing closed again, stepping back into the apartment. “Does it really bother you that I </span>
  <em>
    <span>might</span>
  </em>
  <span> kill him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Peter throws himself up off the couch, turning away from Wade for a moment. Turning back around, he scowls. “Killing is wrong! I’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> believed that. When you told me you only took jobs to kill bad guys, I believed you and figured I could live with it but...” he trails off before shrugging a little helplessly. “It’s a lot harder to let it go when you’re talking about killing people just because they make you angry.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He called you a whore,” Wade scowls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter wraps his arms around himself. “I’m sorry, Wade. It’s- It’s not my place to even judge you for this. I just…” he shakes his head. “It’s just hard for me to stomach the thought of you killing people because of something they did or said to me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence is heavy, and Peter can feel Wade’s eyes almost boring holes in the top of his head but doesn’t look up again until he hears the door quietly click as Wade finally leaves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s still sitting on the couch when Wade gets back two hours later holding a box just like the one Weasel had given them the first time they’d gone to get parts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drops the box on the coffee table and flops back onto the couch. “I didn’t kill him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m really sorry, Wade. I shouldn’t have said anything; that wasn’t my place.” Peter turns and sits cross legged on the couch, facing Wade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade heaves a sigh before he reaches up and pulls his mask off, looking at Peter. “You’re my friend. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> having you as my friend.” He pauses for a moment before smiling, “Did I ever tell you why I stopped taking jobs for pay that they couldn’t prove the target was a bad guy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter shakes his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When we first met, you didn’t want anything to do with me. I figured that might be the reason why. I mean, I had heard of you. I knew you were big on the whole not killing thing and figured maybe I could make you like me if I straightened up my morals a little, you know?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade raises a hand, interrupting before Peter can say anything else. “I know now that you didn’t even really know anything about me, but I figured it was worth a shot. And hey! We </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> end up becoming friends. Just look at us now!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that’s why I was upset,” Peter says softly. “I think of you as my friend, but I really shouldn’t have said anything. I can’t make your choices for you, and it isn’t up to me what you do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade reaches out but stops before he actually lays a hand on Peter’s leg, instead settling his hand down on the couch between them. “I guess I just didn’t think about it. This is just how I’ve dealt with things for a really long time.” He shrugs and lets out a weak laugh. “You know what? I’m glad to be your friend, too. This isn’t a thing I need to do. I can’t make any promises, and I might make mistakes, but I want to be good enough to be your friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wade, no!” Peter leans forward, wrapping his hand around Wade’s and pulling it up onto his knee. “You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>already</span>
  </em>
  <span> a good enough friend!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just don’t want to lose you because of this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That makes Peter stop before he blurts anything else out because Wade isn’t wrong. How long could Peter be friends with someone he knows kills people just for saying something that makes him angry? He doesn’t know and that’s what halts his words, so he says nothing, squeezing Wade’s hand a little tighter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something wells up in Peter’s chest and he scrambles onto his knees, leaning over Wade. Still tightly gripping one hand, he lays his other hand on Wade’s face and looks at his wide eyes. “Maybe… more than that. Can I kiss you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You… what?” Wade asks weakly, gazing wide-eyed at Peter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I kiss you?” Peter repeats. “Please?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade’s mouth opens slightly, and Peter sees his eyes dart down. Peter can’t help but also look down, seeing the tip of Wade’s tongue peak out to wet his lower lip. “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The word is barely out of Wade’s mouth before Peter is leaning forward, gently settling his mouth against Wade’s. It’s soft and Peter smiles at the gentle noise that escapes Wade. And then Wade is freeing his hand and wrapping both arms around Peter, pulling him into Wade’s lap. Peter goes willingly, swinging his leg over Wade’s and settling against him, mouths moving together. There’s the edge of a gun digging into his thigh, but Peter doesn’t care. Wade’s mouth is warm and wet and Peter wants this more than he ever thought he would want from Wade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s an odd warmth building in his middle, and Peter squeaks when he brushes up against something hard when he tries to shift closer to Wade. He pulls away and looks down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, sorry,” Wade says breathlessly, shifting his hips back a little and leaning in again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter pulls back before Wade can connect, shaking his head, “I don’t-” he pulls in a shaky breath, “I like you, I really do, but I can’t do this while I’m in the wrong body, Wade.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade leans back and blinks at Peter. “Oh,” he says, and there is disappointment in the word. Does Wade not like the idea of waiting or does he not want to deal with a more masculine shape in a lover?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you… Are you willing to wait?” Peter asks hesitantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” There’s a happy surprise in Wade’s voice this time, and he continues earnestly, “Of course I will, Peter. I thought… Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I’ll wait. I don’t ever want to do anything you don’t want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter smiles at him before leaning in for one more soft kiss. It lasts longer than he meant it to but after a little bit, he’s able to pull himself away and slides off Wade and back onto the couch. “I should work on getting this put together, then,” he gestures at the gender shifting machine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade grins at him before jumping to his feet. “Sounds good! I’ll go make some food then. You’ll probably want it after you change back, yeah? I’m sure you’ll be hungry after you shift all your molecules around.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Wade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wade hums happily as he rifles through the fridge. He can’t remember the last time he was this happy! And yeah, okay, that’s not saying a whole lot with how spotty his memory sometimes is, but Peter said he wanted to try the whole kissing thing again after he changes his shape back to his regularly scheduled male body and that’s exciting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Peter first said he couldn’t kiss him, Wade had been afraid that meant Peter didn’t want to kiss him </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but when he had gone on to ask if Wade was willing to wait, he had almost exploded from excitement. Of course he would wait! He had rolled out all of his charm for Spider-Man during their various team ups, and the hero had never reacted except to either laugh or brush him off. Wade had started to give up hope.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This feels like a dream come true. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade lets himself spin a short pirouette as he pulls the ingredients for burgers out of the fridge and sets everything down on the counter before he starts putting the patties together. He doesn’t want to scare Peter off!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he doesn’t stop humming the whole time he’s making burgers and  even breaks into song over the sizzling patties a few times. It’s alright, Peter knows who he is, right? A little singing isn’t going to freak him out!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s still humming when he places of plate full of burgers next to a distracted Peter’s elbow and drops back down on the couch, his own three burgers on a plate in his hand. Peter doesn’t even react at first. Wade’s halfway through his third burger when Peter absently grabs a burger from his plate and takes a bite. He sets it down just as absentmindedly, still gently pulling out old parts from the machine and replacing them with new ones. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade is long finished with his own meal when Peter finally reaches out and grabs at the air on his plate. “What-?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were very intently working on that machine,” Wade snorts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter blinks at Wade in surprise. “I didn’t even notice you come back in!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade laughs this time. “Did you notice the three burgers you just ate?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade lets himself fall over on his side, laughing harder as Peter’s eyes track to the plate next to him, empty of everything but some bread crumbs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oof,” Wade grunts as Peter shoves him. He rubs his side dramatically and whines. “Ouch. You’ve still got some real muscle on you, even eight inches shorter than you were.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t laugh at me,” Peter pouts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey! It was just a little funny.” Wade sits himself back up and looks over at the machine. Despite having seen it a few dozen times at this point, Wade still can’t make heads or tails of it. It doesn’t look any different to him. Some of the parts are a little shinier. Maybe. Wade leans forward and and squints at it. After a moment, he shrugs and lets himself flop back. “So how’s it going?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter smiles over at him, and Wade tries not to melt. He’s still having a hard time really believing that Peter wants to be with him!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m almost done, I think. I just have a few more parts to replace and then all that’s left is to try it out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t need to test it or something first?” Wade feels a spike of concern. He’s not a scientist, but he knows that TV scientists, at least, always test their mysterious machines before they try them out on themselves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The question seems to make Peter hesitate. “I mean… I really should, but how am I supposed to do that? I can’t just test it on some random person.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade shrugs. Hell, that’s what he would have done if the choice were up to him. Probably a good thing Peter’s the one making this choice instead of Wade. But still, grabbing some random asshole off the street to test it on doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Hey- “Let’s go find a criminal? There’s probably plenty out there we could get.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Wade asks, mystified. Peter is gaping at him in disbelief, and Wade shrugs again. “It would be a criminal, not just some random civvie!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Absolutely not.” Peter reaches forward and puts two more pieces into the machine before closing it up decisively. “We’re most </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely not</span>
  </em>
  <span> grabbing some random criminal to test this on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade opens his mouth to argue his point again, but Peter just raises his voice. “No, Wade. I’ll sleep on it and look at it again in the morning before I use it, make sure it looks right. That’s the best I’m going to get unless I break ethics, and I’m not willing to do that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade wilts back against the couch after Peter’s short monologue and pouts. “I just figured testing it was safer, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, but not if it might hurt someone else.” Peter stands up and turns to face Wade, waving his hands at him. “Now shoo, I wanna go to sleep.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Wade sits up but hesitates before he actually stands, “you’ve been sleeping out here this whole time…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s eyebrows rise and he shrugs, “Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, we’re going to try out this… </span>
  <em>
    <span>us thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> after you’re physically male again, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sarcasm leeches out of Peter’s face, and he smiles softly, “Right.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade slowly stands and can’t stop himself from fidgeting. Why is this question so hard to ask? “So will you…  uh-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will I what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh-” Wade waves his hand around uselessly. Maybe if he makes enough random gestures Peter will understand what Wade wants. He’s never had a hard time asking people for a night of sex so why is asking for a night of cuddles so much harder!? “Willyousleepwithmetonight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade,” Peter drags out the name as he shakes his head, and Wade thinks back on what he actually just said, scrambling for something persuasive to say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait no!” he reaches out. “That’s not what I meant! I meant like- uh-” his voice drops to a whisper, and it’s almost a question as he says, “cuddles?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s shoulders relax and a small smile plays on his face. “Cuddles? I like cuddles as much as the next guy. I mean-” Peter’s smile grows as he steps closer to Wade, “promise me it will be only cuddles and yeah, that sounds great. I meant what I said, you know. I want to try out being </span>
  <em>
    <span>us</span>
  </em>
  <span> after I’m back to normal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade can’t help the bright smile that flashes on his face as he takes a step forward, too, stepping into Peter’s space and grabbing his hand. He daringly leans in and kisses Peter’s cheek. Straightening back up, he squeals internally at the blush spreading over Peter’s face. “I promise. Cuddles are the best, anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cuddles </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>the best,” Peter says. Wade feels like he’s floating as he lets Peter tug him towards the bedroom. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Peter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter woke slowly, stretching against the warmth pressed along his side. He hummed, turning his head and rubbing his face against the pillow. He was so warm and comfortable! Wade had kept his word and was nothing but a gentleman after he and Peter had gone to bed. He had even asked if Peter minded before taking off his shirt for sleep. Peter had been the one who had turned and placed his head on Wade’s chest, cuddling close as they lay together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade grunts and turns to wrap his arm tightly over Peter, drawing him closer. Peter lets himself be moved, pressing his face against Wade’s chest. He doesn’t want to get up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s excited at the idea of changing back to his normal shape, but he can’t help the anxiety underlying all of his thoughts. What if he hadn’t put the machine together right? What if it’s only meant to work one way and it doesn’t change him back? What if he messed up and it melts him into a puddle of goo instead?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sshhh, no thinking,” Wade mumbles, tightening his arms and pulling Peter closer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter tries to make himself relax but no matter how warm and comfortable he is cuddled up against Wade, he can't stop thinking about what the day will bring. After a few more minutes, Wade sighs and kisses the top of his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay," Wade says, letting Peter go and rolling onto his back. "I gotta pee and then I'll make breakfast." He stands and is almost to the bathroom door when he stops and turns stern eyes at Peter, "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don't </span>
  </em>
  <span>do anything without me. Please."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter wants to be irritated at Wade's presumption. Peter's a grown-up, after all! Instead he nods at Wade. No matter how much he wants to be irritated, he's not. All Peter feels is relief that Wade wants to be there with him, to support him, when he activates the machine. Peter nods. “I won’t, I’ll wait for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade nods back, maskless face still set in stern lines before he whirls away and heads for the bathroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter relaxes back onto the bed. He had slept better than he had in ages, even before the whole bodily sex change incident and sleeping on Wade’s couch. Wade was definitely a good cuddle buddy, and he hadn’t been wrong about giving great cuddles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Snorting at his own thoughts, Peter stretches and rolls himself out of bed. Heading into the living room, he grabs the bag of clothes sitting next to the couch. Reaching in, he hesitates. The only thing still clean from their shopping trip is the dress. Shooting a quick glance at the bedroom, he crams the dress farther into the bag and closes it just as he hears the toilet flush. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So I was thinking pancakes again, sweetie Petey, whattaya think?” Wade calls as he throws the bathroom door open and skips through his bedroom and out into the living room back in only his sweatpants, throwing in a dramatic twirl on his way through the second door. He lands in front of Peter and offers up a grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter just shakes his head and half laughs at Wade’s dramatics. “Yeah, pancakes are good. You mind if I take a shower?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade cheers and pumps his arms. Twirling toward the kitchen, he skips into the kitchen, sing-songing as he goes, “Yeeesss, pancakes!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The shower?” Peter calls at his back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My shower is your shower!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade’s already banging around in the kitchen when Peter heads into the bathroom, taking the bag with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grabs a towel out of the closet and sets the bag on the toilet seat, turning to start the shower. He’s more than a little nervous at the idea of wearing the dress, but Wade bought it and it really had fit well when Peter had tried it on. Hopefully within the next few hours Peter will be leaving the female form behind as nothing but a memory and he’ll be back to his much more comfortable normal self. The dress deserves to be worn at least once. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The idea of changing back is more than a little exciting. Peter rushes through his shower, eager to get breakfast out of the way so he can feel like he fits properly in his own skin again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jumping out of the shower, he wraps the towel around himself and stares at the bag sitting innocently on the toilet. Sighing, he reaches into it and drags out some underwear and the dress. There really isn’t anything for it. His only other options are to wear dirty clothes and leave the clean dress unworn, or just wear it once and surprise Wade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter smiles to himself. He can imagine Wade’s face lighting up in a huge grin, face painted with delight at getting to see Peter dolled up in the dress he picked out. The image relieves some of the tension in him. It’s worth being a little uncomfortable to get to see that delight. If things go the way Peter hopes, he’ll only be wearing it for a few hours anyway before he’ll be back into his Spidey suit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Running the towel over his head one last time, he slips the dress over his head and smooths it out. Looking down at himself and then into the mirror, he smiles. He doesn’t look so bad like this, really, and the dress is flattering. Surprisingly, it’s easy to think that now that he knows his time in a female form is drawing to an end.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shooting one more smile at his reflection, he heads out of the bathroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stopping in the kitchen doorway, he smiles at the image Wade makes. He’s dancing in place as he flips pancakes on a griddle, a heaping plate already to the side, and humming to himself. Slipping into the room, Peter comes up behind Wade. Touching Wade’s back, Peter slides around him and jumps up to sit on the counter next to the plate of pancakes. Grabbing one, he smiles at Wade’s dumbfounded expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wha-” Wade gapes, freezing with the spatula still under a pancake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s smile widens into a grin, “Careful, don’t melt the spatula.” He rips a piece of his stolen premake off and tosses it into his mouth.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You… What are-?” Wade stops, mouth opening and closing soundlessly, seemingly unable to spit out any coherent sentences.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me what? The dress?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade nods silently, flicking his eyes away just long enough to finish flipping the pancake before his eyes glue back onto Peter, trailing up and down his form and taking everything in.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter shrugs a little slyly. Wade’s reaction is almost better than he had imagined! “It was all that was clean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You- But… But I didn’t think you would, uh…” Wade trails off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Affection bubbles up in Peter and his smile softens at Wade. “You were so excited when you found it. I had to wear it at least once. And besides,” Peter points out, cramming another bite of pancake in his mouth, “you wear dresses and you pull ‘em off fantastically. One dress isn’t going to hurt me, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look fantastic, Peter,” Wade says softly, dropping the spatula on the counter and reaching for Peter. He hesitates for just a second but moves in closer when Peter doesn’t object. He trails his hand over Peter shoulder, drifting down his arm and twining their fingers together. Peter lets him bring their joined hands up to his mouth and kiss the back of Peter’s hand gently. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t thank me.” Peter can’t help the blush he feels drifting over his face as he looks away. “I do look good in the dress, and I can appreciate that at least once, right? I mean, by tonight I won’t fit in it anymore, so it’s okay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Peter.” Wade’s hand gently presses against the side of Peter’s face, tilting his head back toward Wade’s. “I never expected you to wear it. I want you to be comfortable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade grins. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your pancakes are burning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My pancakes!” Wade shouts, dropping Peter’s hand and flinging himself back in front of the griddle, rushing to get the pancakes off before they become inedible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter laughs. There’s an odd giddiness running through him and it feels so amazing right now. He hasn’t felt this good in so long! It’s more than a little surprising, considering what they are planning for the day, but it’s also nice. He just wants to play with Wade and grin all morning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watches quietly as Wade finishes up his pancakes and chatters at Peter about clothes and things that Wade has worn. Everytime Wade turns his pleased and adoring eyes back to Peter and runs them over his dress, that burbling giddiness rises up and threatens to overflow again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have this perfect princess dress that I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to show you, Peter, I love it. It’s full length and I don’t usually wear those but this one has two layers and both of them are just a little see through, and I just can’t get enough of that peeking effect!” Wade’s grin turns a little sly as he tilts his head at Peter. “Would you like that kind of thing, Petey? A flash of leg here and there, just enough to make you guess?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter offers his own once over of Wade’s form. He takes in the broad shoulders and tight abs that lead down to loose pants. The vee of his hips is just barely visible and yeah… Peter is definitely feeling a keen interest in seeing the rest of those gorgeous muscles Wade has peeking out of the top of his sweats. The scars don’t detract at all, instead helping to draw attention to the amazing definition of the mercenary’s perfectly shaped body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he brings his eyes back up to Wade’s face, Wade looks embarrassed, shifting in place and eyes focusing down on the griddle. He keeps flicking them up towards Peter and his mouth is tight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Peter offers, “I would most definitely love to see it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- You…” Wade trails off for a moment before bursting out, “It really doesn’t bother you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter blinks in surprise. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve been wandering around without a mask </span>
  <em>
    <span>or shirt</span>
  </em>
  <span> all morning, and you haven’t even said anything or given me any dirty looks!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Of course not!” Peter exclaims. “Why would I be mad? This is your home!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But it…” Wade trails off a little helplessly. “You don’t find it gross?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surprise and a little bit of horrified offense takes the place of the giddy pleasure Peter had been feeling earlier. “Of course not! Wade, I told you the other day your skin doesn’t bother me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But… I just thought you were being nice.” Wade’s shoulders slump and he avoids looking at Peter now, pulling his pancakes off the griddle and obviously drawing into himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter can’t help but reach out, resting his hand on Wade’s arm. The other man freezes, gorgeous blue eyes darting up to meet Peter’s. “I like how you look. I love your beautiful, expressive eyes, and how you always have a smile ready.” Peter can’t help but laugh a little before he goes on, “And really, you have one of the best bodies I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing, with your perfect broad shoulders and seriously unreal, what is it, a 12 pack!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The comment brings a smile back to Wade’s face and he lets out a surprised giggle. He pulls away a little and obviously flexes, looking down his own body, “At least an 18 pack, sweetums!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter lets go of Wade’s arm, sitting back on the counter and offering Wade a small smile as his eyes dart up to meet Peter’s, “You don’t have anything to be ashamed of, Wade. I love how you look.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smile disappears as quickly as it appeared, and Wade is shaking his head before Peter even finishes speaking. “You don’t have to lie. I told you, I know what I look like. I know what people think about how I look.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter huffs in frustration, reaching out to grab Wade’s hand and pull him closer. “I’m not everyone else!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still shorter than Wade, even sitting on the counter, Peter has to stretch up to press a small kiss to Wade’s lips. It takes a moment but Wade leans into the soft pressure, returning the kiss. Pulling away, Peter smiles softly. “I am attracted to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Petey,” Wade sighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t that enough?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade lets himself be tugged in for another soft kiss. When Peter pulls away, there’s a smile on Wade’s face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like you a lot, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade’s unexpected words send warmth rushing to Peter’s face and he leans in, burying his face against Wade’s chest. The scars feel interesting against Peter’s face and he can’t help but rub his face against them for a moment before he mumbles, “I like you a lot, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade steps closer to him, wrapping an arm around Peter’s shoulders. It feels nice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a moment, Wade steps back and Peter can see the pink of a slight blush winding through Wade’s scars. He doesn’t give Peter time to remark on them, though, sweeping up a plate and shoving a tower of pancakes at him. He turns away and grabs his own plate, ducking his head. “Time to eat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter lets himself be distracted, slipping off the counter and following Wade into the living room. They still sit close to each other while they eat and Peter can feel the weight of the other man’s eyes on him but every time he turns to look, Wade is staring down at his own plate of food. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn’t take long for Peter to finish, and he sighs as he sets his plate on the coffee table. “I feel like I should be more excited than nervous, but I’m not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade finally meets his eyes. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just…” Peter trails off and shrugs lightly. “I guess I’m a little afraid this thing between me and you won’t survive me physically being a man again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Wade looks shocked at the words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve never shown real interest in me before this! It seems like a valid fear.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Wade repeats dumbly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade shakes his head, and his next words are exasperated, “How did you miss my endless flirting? I know I’ve complimented your ass at least once every single time I was anywhere near you!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve seen you flirt with trees! Complimenting my ass definitely didn’t mean much after I saw you propositioning a tree in Central Park.” Peter raises his brows at Wade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade pouts at the pointed reference, “Alien sentient trees are a thing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That one definitely wasn’t an alien sentient tree.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe it was an Ent!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really? You’re going with that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, okay!” Wade laughs. “So maybe I do flirt with a lot of people and a few inanimate objects. But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>like you, Peter. I liked you then, and I like you now. I don’t know what else to tell you to make you believe me, but I promise I’ll still want to give dating you a chance after you get your dick back.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade!” Peter exclaims, face flushing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade just leans in and kisses him. Kissing back, Peter lets himself relax. Wade’s right, there’s no point in worrying about this right now. And even if there </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> something to worry about, Peter isn’t going to put off changing back just to see what can happen with Wade. This is too important. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought drags his eyes to the machine and Peter sighs. Wade scoots closer to him on the couch and asks, “Is it time?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I think so. No point putting it off, we aren’t going to test it. And I really want to get back to normal.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite Peter’s words, Wade is the one who finally reaches out and grabs the machine off the coffee table, scooching back over to make room between them. “I can stay here with you, right?” he asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That startles Peter and he blinks. “Of course!” he exclaims. “You were there last time and nothing happened to you, it should be the same this time.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade nods and they look at the machine sitting silently between them. Peter does nothing but stare for a minute. Wade is obviously starting to fidget, but he doesn’t say anything. Peter doesn’t even know why he’s so nervous! He’s excited, yes, but at the same time, there’s a little bit of dread sitting heavily in his mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he finally reaches out and drags the thing into his lap, Wade jumps. Then he laughs a little shakily, “Sorry. I was starting to think we were gonna sit here for the rest of the day just staring at it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Peter murmurs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade doesn’t get the chance to say anything back before Peter is reaching down and turning the handle on the machine. It immediately starts to buzz and glow gently, just like before. The light grows, bathing the whole room, and Peter feels it warming his skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes jump up, meeting Wade’s. He has a moment to see Wade’s encouraging smile before the light brightens even further and darkness rises up to claim him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Wade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wade drags his hand up to his head and groans. Ugh, what did he shoot himself with this time? He hasn’t felt this hungover in a long time. His head is throbbing and his whole body aches. He freezes as the sound of his groan reaches his ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He experimentally groans again and his eyes fly open at the sound. That’s not right. That doesn’t sound like him! Sitting up, his eyes instantly dart down at the heavy weight moving on his chest. What the hell…? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those are… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those are definitely some fantastic looking titties.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaps to his feet and almost topples over at the change in his balance. Nothing feels quite right. The breasts are heavy as they shift on his chest and his hips are much wider. His sweatpants stretch almost to the point of breaking at his hips but he’s definitely lost some height, judging by the fabric under his heels. Catching himself against the couch arm, he looks over at Peter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The machine is still sitting in his lap but smoke is swirling gently from the handle connects. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dragging his eyes away from the machine, Wade is relieved to see that Peter is back to normal, his wide shoulders having torn the seam on the side of the dress and it’s just barely reaching the top of his thighs now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Good though. The machine might not have worked exactly as Peter had hoped, but at least he’s physically male again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought has Wade’s eyes tearing away from Peter’s form and glueing back down on his own amazing new boobs. His hands come up and cup them. They’re big enough to overflow his hands by quite a bit, and he jiggles them up and down and then jumps just to see them bounce. </span>
</p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <br/>
    
    <br/>
  </p>
</div> <p>
  <span>“Ouch!” He grabs at his chest as gravity yanks the skin above his boobs and a weird ache pulses behind his new chest appendages. “Wow. Baywatch was such a lie! That freaking hurt!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pain is a little bit of a relief, though. It helps Wade clarify with himself that this is almost certainly not a hallucination. He’s never been hurt in or by a hallucination before. The thought has Wade turning and hurrying toward his bedroom closet and the mirror he keeps hidden in the back. He wants to see!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His first glance at the mirror after he drags it out and sets it against the wall brings a jolt of disappointment. While he had seen the scars on his tits when he first noticed their existence, they hadn’t really registered. Looking into the mirror now, it feels like a massive letdown; alternate universe girl!him got to have long blonde hair and scar free skin! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still though, Wade isn’t that unhappy with the reflection. Surprisingly, he doesn’t look much like alternate girl!him had. Mostly, he looks like a more feminine and scarred up Ryan Reynolds but with giant boobs. The thought drags his eyes and hands back to the aforementioned body parts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t help but squeeze them. They really are huge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Weighing them in his hands, he guesses they’re at least G cups. Bouncing them, he squeals. The sound that comes out of his mouth has Wade dropping his boobs and clapping a hand over it in shock. It’s so high-pitched!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drops his hand and grins with silly delight at the mirror, not even minding the scars anymore. Wade is a woman right now and that has been a secret wish of his- no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hers</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for as long as she can remember. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She spins toward the door as a soft “Wade?” drifts through the air. Peter is waking up!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s halfway through her bedroom when she stops, her bouncing boobs reminding her that maybe she should put a shirt back on. A soft giggle rises up. Don’t want Petey getting all embarrassed at seeing nekkid breasts that aren’t made of chicken meat! Especially awesome and huge ones like Wade’s fancy new titties. Poor Peter had been a member of the itty bitty titty committee while he was still in girl shape, the man probably hasn’t ever seen anything as awesome as Wade’s new chesticles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing the first shirt she sees in the closet, she tugs it on. It’s a soft grey that matches her sweatpants. It certainly fits better than one of her shirts had fit Peter in his girl shape, but it’s loose at the shoulders while being tight enough over her chest that Wade’s a little afraid her boobs will burst out, porno style. A tentative bounce sadly denies her the idea of that actually happening, and she hurries back toward the living room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Peter! Guess what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wade?” Peter looks confused and shocked, eyes flickering over Wade’s body once, twice, before getting stuck on her boobs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade bounces. Peter’s eyes bounce with her. She squeals. “Isn’t it great, look at these!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words have Peter managing to drag his eyes away and horror flits over his face. “Oooh no. Oh Wade, I’m so sorry. It was only supposed to change </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade blinks. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll fix it!” Peter stumbles as he tries to throw himself off the couch. He’s nearly bursting out of the dress he had put on that morning and rising dangerously high up his thighs. Wade lets her eyes linger even as Peter reaches down to tug the dress down as far as he can. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uuuhh…” Peter hesitates. “Let me just change my clothes real quick. Can I borrow something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade waves behind her, eyes still glued to the soft skin peeking out from the bottom of Peter’s skirt, high up on his thighs. “Yeah, sure. It’ll probably still be pretty loose, but mi clothes es su clothes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping to the side as Peter moves past her, Wade keeps her eyes at ass level, getting a nice glimpse of some asscheeks definitely flashing out from under the skirt. The door swings shut behind Peter, and Wade finally lets the leer out onto her face. Peter looked so yummy nearly bursting out of that dress!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade giggles and twirls in place before skipping over to the couch and throwing herself sideways on it. She just feels so amazing, light and content and just about ready to overflow with happiness. Just- this is so perfect. She actually gets to experience a little bit of life as a woman!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought has her pausing with her hands on her awesome titties. Wait. Is she just as fully changed as Peter had been? She drops her hands to her pants and lifts the waistband, having to partially sit up to see over her definitely-in-the-way-right-now titties.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sight that greets her has her cramming a hand down her pants, feeling around. She twitches at the sensation of running her fingers over her new </span>
  <span>love </span>
  <span>taco. Both the feeling and the thought has her breaking out into laughter again but that doesn’t stop her from exploring, letting her fingers feel over the firm little clit and explore the dampness a little further down. The laughter is choked off in a small gasping breath as she slides the tip of her finger in and her eyes snap closed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s intense and not at all what Wade had expected. Really, it feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> like taking it up the ass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A choking sound from the other side of the room has her eyes flying open as she yanks her hand out of her pants. “Peter! Um-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you- What-?” Peter is gaping at her from the bedroom doorway, still mostly in the bedroom. It’s obvious he had frozen as soon as he had seen what Wade had been doing on the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wave of defensiveness rushes over her as she takes in the shock on Peter’s face. “It’s mine! I can play with it if I want!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red floods Peter’s face. It’s fascinating to watch. It’s the same splotchy red spreading down over his collarbones that Wade had found so mesmerizing to watch when Peter had a woman’s body. It’s definitely still pretty mesmerizing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter claps a hand over his face and Wade snorts out a laugh. “Why are you hiding your eyes </span>
  <em>
    <span>now?</span>
  </em>
  <span> You’ve definitely already gotten an eyeful and my hands aren’t even in my pants anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter spins around for good measure. “What are you doing?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scowling, Wade sits up and crosses her arms. “What? I just wanted to feel around a bit! I’ve never had girly parts before and wanted to get to know ‘em a little!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peeking over his shoulder first, Peter half turns back, eyeing Wade suspiciously, as though she’s going to stick her hands back down her pants the second he’s looking again. “Why would you even want to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who wouldn’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s your problem, not mine!” Wade glares aggressively at the coffee table. The silence drags on long enough that Wade looks suspiciously over at Peter. He’s gaping in obvious shock and Wade scowls harder, drawing in a heavy sigh. “Okay, that was mean. But it’s my body, you know, no matter the shape of it. I have the right to explore it if I want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pouty statement must help Peter over his initial shock at least a little bit as his face softens. “Yeah, I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lectured you. Just because I didn’t want to do anything with my body when I was like that doesn’t mean that you have to feel the same way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade lets herself flop back against the couch again, drawing one leg up. “I’m glad I made food before you used the machine, I’m starving again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter seems to take the words as an apology accepted, and Wade can see him moving in the corner of her eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were there more pancakes?” Peter tentatively offers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning her head, Wade lets a small smile come back onto her face. “Yeah, there’s a whole plate left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could split it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re grabbing it, sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter offers a small smile and hurries into the kitchen. Wade watches as he goes, admiring her clothes hanging down over Peter’s frame. They are definitely too big but a shiver of possessiveness runs through her at seeing Peter swathed in something that belongs to her. She swings herself up to sitting again when Peter hurries back into the room holding two plates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She makes room for him to sit next to her, grabbing the plate and not waiting to dive in. She doesn’t even bother with syrup, just grabbing up a pancake and cramming it in her mouth, moaning. “Oh my god, why didn’t you say anything after you changed the first time. I’m almost dying of hunger here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she finally looks up from the food with her last pancake in hand and cheeks bulging with food, Peter is looking at her fondly, his plate still half full. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Wade garbles out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter smiles and shakes his head, taking another bite of food. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, seriously, what?” Wade crams the last pancake in her mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, I just…” Peter ducks his head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I just like looking at you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh…” Wade doesn’t know what ‘the wrong way’ might be but the words have her face growing hot. No one ever wants to look at her. Oh… She gets it. It’s because she’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> now. Well, it’s okay. Wade can work with that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Setting down her now empty plate, she waggles her unfortunately still hairless brows at Peter. “So…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter blinks at her, clearly startled. “Uh, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re back in your regularly scheduled body,” Wade drags the words out suggestively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Peter’s turn to have a red face as he finally seems to get what she’s referring to and he splutters. “What?! No, of course not! I need to work on fixing the machine again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The firm words have Wade flopping back again with a sigh. “You don’t want to help me test drive the new parts?” she whines and then watches with renewed interest as that oh so fascinating flush spreads down over Peter’s collarbones and his eyes noticeably linger on her boobs again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t do that to you!” Peter exclaims, turning his head down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade can’t help the laugh that erupts out of her. “What? What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wade! I know you’re a man, okay. I didn’t even want to touch those parts, I know at least a little bit of what you must be feeling right now. Just let me eat and get a nap, okay,” Peter says, looking back over at her, and he’s so entirely ernest that Wade can’t bring herself to say anything that might burst his bubble. “I’ll get to work on fixing that machine so we can get you back to normal as quickly as possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade flips her hand, suppressing yet another sigh. “No rush, Petey. Eat, nap, whatever. I’m good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The message goes right over Peter’s head as he nods seriously. “You don’t need to worry. It shouldn’t take anywhere near as long this time. I’ll check it over before I sleep, but Weasel gave us multiples of every part.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wade lets the sigh out this time, offering up a half-assed smile. Peter smiles back, stuffing the last of his own pancake in his mouth and pulling the machine toward himself. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Peter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter laid down on the couch to catch some sleep after Wade had gone into his room. He shut the door behind him, and Peter hadn’t had the heart to go after him and see if the mercenary was doing okay. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the moment, Peter is laying on the couch feeling guilty. He knows he needs to get up and start checking out what has happened with the machine and why it has done more than just change him back, but he can’t help but stew in his guilt. He’s obviously done something wrong, and Wade is having to deal with the terrible feeling of being wrong inside his own skin just like Peter had. The thought is such a heavy weight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of something falling in the bedroom is what finally has Peter sitting up. He throws a frown at the still closed door. He really wants to go check on Wade but at the same time, Peter doesn’t want to bother him if he needs to come to terms with being stuck in a woman’s body for the short time it takes while Peter fixes the machine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of something falling, again, followed by high pitched cursing decides for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even with the decision made, Peter still hesitates before he knocks on the door. He doesn’t want to bother Wade if he’s just letting off steam or having a hard time dealing with what his body looks like now or- </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, come in!” Wade calling out interrupts Peter’s fretful musing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tentatively opening the door, Peter enters the room to the embodiment of irritation. Wade is standing at his mostly empty closet with a black dress falling off his shoulders and sitting bunched up over his hips, scowling. He’s wearing boxers but Peter almost wants to look away from the sight since the boxers are pulled so tight at the hips that the slit in the front is gaping. Pulling his eyes away from Wade, Peter sees there’s a pile of discarded dresses lying half off the bed with a few in crumpled heaps on the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is everything okay?” Peter asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Wade half turns, distracted eyes staying glued to his closet while he turns most of his body towards Peter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, Peter is right about the fate of the boxers, and his face feels like it’s caught on fire as he jerks his eyes away. He glues them to the dresses on the bed instead. That seems like a safe enough place to look, at least. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh…” The glimpse of skin peeking through Wade’s boxers has driven every thought out of Peter’s head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pete?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Peter dares to glance over, Wade is looking at him, questioning look obvious on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh…” Peter fumbles again. “It just sounded like things were getting thrown around in here? Did you need help?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Confusion flashes over Wade’s face and then he blinks. “Ooooohhh. Yeah, I’m just kind of pissed that none of my dresses fit, you know? I figured, I’ve got the body to pull ‘em off now, why not rock ‘em!” Wade scowls as he turns back to his closet and kicks a shoe box lying on the floor. “Of course none of them fit right! They’re all sized to fit me </span>
  <em>
    <span>before this.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter doesn’t know what to say to that. He knew Wade liked dresses, he’s seen the mercenary wear them before on jobs and everything. Heck, he had offered to go dress shopping with the man once everything was back to normal! Despite that, he just hadn’t figured Wade would want to wear dresses while physically a woman. He’s a man on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>inside </span>
  </em>
  <span>even if he isn’t on the outside right now! Peter hadn’t wanted to even think about doing things that might reinforce the image his shape gave about who he was; he had just assumed Wade would feel the same way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter knows it shouldn’t be, but it’s a shock that Wade isn’t reacting to the situation the same way he had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound has Wade turning back towards him. “Oh, yeah, I know it’s not a huge deal; I’m just pissed about it, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter only nods at him blankly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade keeps complaining as he turns back and drags another dress out of the closet, “I was just really hoping I could see what they looked like! It’s not fair at all!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words shake him out of his stupor. “They’ll fit after I figure out what I did wrong with the machine and get you changed back,” Peter points out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The betrayed look Wade shoots over his shoulder surprises Peter. The words that follow the look don’t help to clear it up, either, unfortunately. “That’s not the point!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have the figure for it now! I wanted to see how awesome I’d look in them </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words push Peter back into confused silence. The dark scowl Wade throws him has Peter stuttering out apologies just a moment later, though. “I’m sorry! I just… I- I don’t, didn’t- I mean-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade sighs and flaps a hand at him, silencing the mess coming out of Peter’s mouth before he can cram his foot even farther into it. “I know, Pete. I’m not mad at you. It was just a thought, you know? It’s frustrating.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter doesn’t know, but he also doesn’t know what to say to make up for upsetting Wade. After watching Wade rifle aggressively through the contents of his closet a little longer, Peter quietly offers, “I’m gonna check out the machine, see if I can find what I did wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words have Wade stilling again but he nods at Peter, throwing a smile over his shoulder. Peter can tell it’s half-hearted, but it makes him feel a little better. Hopefully getting Wade back to normal and able to fit his dresses again will make this better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A new sense of resolve fills Peter as he moves back into the living room. He’s going to do this; he’s not going to make Wade suffer through being in the wrong body for as long as Peter had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lowering himself to the floor in front of the couch, he pulls the machine closer to himself and decisively opens the casing. He’s barely got it half off before he freezes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck!” He can’t help the curse that bursts out of him as he takes in the burned out wires. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Petey?” Wade asks, coming into the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter looks at him sadly, barely taking in the dress Wade’s managed to squeeze into, his distress strong enough that for a minute he thinks he might cry. “It’s broken again,” he finally offers, voice trembling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade just blinks at him for a moment before he comes over and plops down next to Peter. “I’m not in a hurry, you know,” he offers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that’s- Peter can’t help but lean in and kiss him. Wade freezes for just a moment before kissing back. Pulling back, Peter takes in the bemused smile on Wade’s face. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade laughs. “For what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For being you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade just shakes his head at Peter before standing. “I’m gonna make some food. You want anything in particular?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter lets himself smile as he feels the last of the nervous energy drain out of his body. Wade isn’t mad. He’s okay with not getting changed back right away, and Peter can take a moment to breathe instead of panic. “Whatever’s fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking back down at the once again broken machine, it’s still beyond frustrating but at least Wade isn’t angry. Even though Peter doesn’t understand, it really is a relief that Wade is taking this so much better than Peter had. He knows himself well enough to realize that if this had all been the other way around, Peter would have been angry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pulling the first fried wire out, Peter leans over and grabs a replacement out of the box Weasel had given them. He’ll fix all of the burned out wires and then go from there. Wade is willing to wait; Peter doesn’t have to rush. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought has warmth blooming in him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Wade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wade grabs her apron off its hook as soon as she gets into the kitchen, humming to herself. She grins and smoothes it down over her tits after she ties it behind her back. Wow, she definitely hadn’t noticed how wide her hips are when she was trying on all of her dresses, but the apron really highlights it now. The fabric doesn’t even cover her entirely in the front anymore!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She can’t help the swish she gives her aforementioned hips, loving the feel of the skirt swinging around her legs. The dress has a corset back that allowed her to fit it over her boobs and flares out at the waist in layered pleating that sits nicely over her hips. Of course it had been the last dress she tried on out of almost two dozen, but it looks amazing if she does say so herself! The only reason she had left it for last was because it was a sheer pink fabric and when the layers mov just the wrong way it’s a little see through. She has only ever worn it over her suit before but there is no way that’s going to fit her right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite that and her very visible skin, Wade can’t help but love it.  She just… She hasn’t felt this pretty since before Weapon X. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spinning in place, she gives a hop and a squeal as the skirt and apron flare before dramatically throwing open the fridge. She’s making tacos! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grabbing out the ground beef and getting it started on the stove, she reaches for the tomatoes and lettuce next, humming the whole time. It doesn’t take long to get the meat cooked up and mixed with seasonings, toppings chopped up and ready to go, and the cheese shredded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leaning into the living room, she sees Peter still picking at the machine and sorting through the parts they have leftover from what Weasel has given them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Pete?” she calls. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Peter answers distractedly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want me to bring you some tacos?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter just hums in reply, but Wade takes that as a solid yes. She piles together four stuffed tacos for Peter and eight for herself before taking the haul out to the living room. She sets Peter’s plate down next to his arm and tosses herself onto the couch, watching Peter focus all of his attention on the machine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fifteen minutes later, Wade’s finished all her tacos and tossed her plate onto the coffee table while Peter still hasn’t even glanced up from his work on the machine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Peter?” Wade finally asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter hums in acknowledgment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you gonna eat?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Peter asks, flicking his eyes over to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I made you food?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Peter asks again, turning more fully to look at her. He seems to spot the plate of tacos as he turns. “Oh! Yeah, thanks!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grabs the plate and grins at her, stuffing half a taco in his mouth at once and quickly getting pulled back into his fixation with the machine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade shakes her head and flops back onto the couch. Peter just doesn’t seem to understand that she really was serious when she said it was no rush. Heck, it’s been less than twenty four hours, she’s barely had the chance to check out the goods yet! She’s definitely looking forward to a second experience with what’s happening between her legs. That felt interesting with a side of freaking amazing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grabbing the remote, Wade starts flipping through the channels on the tv, looking for something to waste the night on. She might as well leave Peter to it, at least for now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Six hours of Ancient Aliens later and Peter has still only eaten three of his four tacos, Wade’s gone back for seconds </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>thirds, and she’s getting pretty tired of hanging out on the couch. “Peter?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter just gives another distracted hum in reply, not even looking up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Websy, don’t you think you should get some sleep tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” Peter doesn’t even look at her as he delicately pulls a wire out of the open casing and sets it on top of the small pile next to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Peter!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s head jerks toward her, eyes wide. “What? Is something wrong?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade heaves a sigh as she pulls herself up and scowls lightly at Peter. “It’s after midnight, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter blinks. “Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Were you going to sleep tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter blinks at her again, looking down at the machine and then back at her. He’s got that guilty look back on his face again. “Uhh, I was thinking about staying up to finish fixing this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Peter asks, startled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade shakes her head firmly, getting up and grabbing Peter’s hands and trying to pull him to his feet. It’s not as easy as it looks. Peter appears to be 150 pounds soaking wet, but he doesn’t budge. His eyebrows pull together as he looks up at Wade. Wade’s gotta give him props, he’s doing a good job keeping his eyes off her tits. Heck, even Wade gets distracted everytime she catches sight of them out of the bottom of her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade tugs on his hands again. “Nope, for realsies. Let’s get some sleep so you can get some fresh eyes on it tomorrow. How ya gonna find the mistake if you’re so exhausted you can barely keep your eyes open?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter's brows furrow, like he still doesn't quite understand what Wade means, but he lets himself be pulled to his feet. "But…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade's shaking her head and waving a hand around as soon as he opens his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, no. No buts, come to bed with me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh…" Peter's face starts to flush.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ooooh," Wade exclaims, leering. She loves poking at Peter, even though she knows it’s definitely not gonna get her very far. "Not like that! Well, I wouldn't stop you; I'm all for trying out the parts."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter's face gets even redder as he shakes his head quickly. "Wade! I know you didn't mean it like that, I just… Are you really okay with sharing a bed like this?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why wouldn't I be?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're not nervous?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade laughs, finally getting it. "I trust you not to molest me in my sleep, pumpkin."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter's blush finally starts to fade as he rushes to reassure Wade. "Of course I wouldn't! I know you're just teasing."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade just sighs. Peter is so blind and innocent sometimes! The poor man. Wade gives up, turning and dragging Peter towards the bedroom with her. "Sleep time, Pete."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I just… Are you sure you don't mind it's not fixed yet?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Course not, snuggle bear," Wade chirps, grabbing up a shirt and boxers off the bed. She shoots Peter a wink on her way to the bathroom. "I'm getting to explore how the other side likes it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It?" She hears Peter squeak before the door shuts and she laughs softly. This is the most fun she's had in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> time that didn't involve guns and blood. At this rate, Peter's head is either going to explode from embarrassment or he's going to (Wade's favorite option) figure out Wade isn't actually joking and set to helping her explore her new lady bits.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter's still standing awkwardly beside the bed when Wade comes out of the bathroom in the short and too-tight boxers. She kind of enjoys the breeze, and it'll work fine for sleeping. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh…" Peter offers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade doesn't say anything, sweeping all the dresses onto the floor and climbing into the bed. She scowls at Peter. "Time to sleep."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're really okay with me sleeping in here?" Peter asks again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Go pee and get in bed, please."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That gets Peter moving and he heads to the bathroom. Wade curls up on her side to wait for him but all the excitement of the day overwhelms her and she's fast asleep before Peter even gets back. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Peter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter’s warm and comfortable as he wakes up, a line of heat pressing against his side and weighing down his chest. Drawing his eyes open, he looks down. Wade’s pressed against him, arm gripping tightly over Peter’s chest. Peter’s arm is trapped against his own side and Wade’s mouth is open next to his shoulder, just damp enough for Peter to know they’ve been laying like this for a while. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s comfortable enough, he almost wants to stay and go back to sleep, but his bladder isn’t having any of it. Sighing, Peter tries to wiggle out from under Wade. His arm tightens for just a second before his face screws up in a scowl and he rolls over, pulling the blanket to his chest. Peter can’t help his guilty admiration of said chest before he jumps out of bed and hurries to the bathroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s up now, he might as well get back to work on figuring out what he has done wrong with machine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter isn’t sure how long he’s been working when Wade stumbles into the room, still in the much too tight pair of boxers and loose shirt. He flops onto the couch next to him, pouting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I woke up alone,” he complains quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Smiling, Peter looks at Wade, butting his shoulder gently against his knee and trying to keep his eyes away from the gap in the other man’s underwear. “I wanted to get back to fixing this,” he waves at the machine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade just whines and lets himself fall over on the couch. Leaning his head back and craning his head around, Peter can see that Wade’s eyes are closed, and it’s only a few moments before his breathing evens out and his breaths start edging into the lightest of snores. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter lets himself relax like that for a moment before he shakes himself alert and sits back up. He wants to get this done </span>
  <em>
    <span>today</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for Wade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade was so amazing the whole time Peter had been a woman, and it’s Peter’s fault that Wade is like this now. The least Peter can do is fix it as soon as possible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stay like that, Wade curled on the couch behind Peter’s head and Peter quietly working on the machine, for at least another hour. Peter isn’t exactly sure how long it’s been when Wade curls tighter into himself and groans. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh, why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why what?” Peter looks over his shoulder at the other man. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mornings don’t usually hate me this much, I slept for crap,” Wade complains, rolling onto his back and stretching. Peter’s eyes are inexorably drawn to his breasts, glued to the tight points in his shirt as he arches his back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh…” Peter can feel his face getting hot as he drags his eyes away from the mesmerizing vision. He blinks at the machine in front of him, taking in nothing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Breakfast,” Wade says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Peter says again, risking a glance back over his shoulder. Wade’s on his side again, one arm thankfully over his chest and the other under his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We should order breakfast.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!” Peter exclaims, sitting forward and moving as though to get up. “I can make something.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade doesn’t let him go anywhere, though, gripping the back of his shirt. When Peter looks at him, he’s pouting again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, stay. I’ll just order something. I wanna cuddle, even if it’s just like this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade’s phone is sitting on the floor next to the couch, plugged into a changer. Peter grabs it and hands it over to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter stares at the wires in front of him for a moment before he rolls his shoulders and reaches out, grabbing a wire and leaning in to check where it needs to go inside the machine. He’s just managed to get himself settled back into the groove of focusing when a phone slides over his shoulder to land in his lap and startle him. The squeak that sounds through the room definitely doesn’t belong to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The snickers coming from over his shoulders contradict that thought, but he’s sticking with it. There’s no way such an unmanly sound would ever come out of his manly throat! Wade’s still grinning when Peter tosses a small scowl over at him, but his eyes are closed again. Peter lets the frown drop and leans back enough that he can feel Wade’s hand brushing the back of his shoulder as he continues to work on the machine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The phone that’s still in his lap shows that nearly an hour has passed when there’s a knock on the door. Wade’s snoring softly behind him, fingers gently gripping the back of Peter’s shirt. He grumbles but lets go when Peter stands, not waking up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter can’t help but laugh when he opens the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dopinder grins at him and holds out the bag from one of Peter’s favorite hole-in-the-wall diners, March’s Cafe. “Mr. Pool had let me know that you were hungry and told me your favorite place.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter shakes his head but grabs the bag. “You know, you didn’t have to do this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no problem, sir,” Dopinder waves his hand, “Mr. Pool really pays me very well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter offers him a skeptical look. It doesn’t seem to faze Dopinder, who just grins again. “Have a good day, Mr. Spider-Man!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blinking after the man as he trots down the hallway, Peter huffs out a laugh. Wade must have said something. Peter is surprisingly not upset about Dopinder knowing what his face looks like. The man just gives off such an overwhelming air of childish delight; it’s hard to be suspicious of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade’s eyes are slanted open when Peter turns back into the room. “Was that Dopinder?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Peter laughs. “You take advantage of that man.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade just waves a hand at him, sitting up. “Nah, I throw a grand at him every month. Basically I have him on retainer as my professional bitch boy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter huffs in surprise. “How can you afford that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade slants him a look, pouting, “Okay, so maybe it’s only a few hundred, but still. It’s enough that he still does everything I ask and he’s never complained! I’m hungry, bring me the food!” Wade’s whining dramatically by the end of it, making grabby hands at Peter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Patience isn’t something you practice very much, is it?” Despite his words, Peter is already handing the bag over, settling onto the couch next to the other man. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade’s already got a box out and a handful of bacon crammed into his mouth, so his words are a little garbled when he turns innocent eyes at Peter. “Patience? Never heard of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter just shakes his head, grabbing the second box out of the bag and settling back. He’s pleasantly surprised to find his own stack of bacon nestled in next to a heaping pile of cheese covered eggs and three pancakes. There’s a packet of silverware with a napkin and a cup with what he assumes is syrup in the bag between them, and he quickly joins Wade in digging in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter doesn’t know how long it’s been when Wade swings his feet back up on the couch with a satisfied sigh and lets out a loud belch, digging his toes under Peter’s thigh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you stop to taste anything?” Peter asks. He’s barely halfway through his own food and from what Peter can see, there’s nothing but a few crumbs left in Wade’s box. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Growing boobs must’ve really taken it out of me. I was super starving.” The look Wade’s giving his empty box has Peter half expecting to see Wade licking up the last of the crumbs but he doesn’t do it. Instead, he heaves a sigh and sets the box on the floor before flopping over against Peter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oof!” Peter barely saves his box of food from flying onto the floor, looking over at Wade’s pouting face pressed against his shoulder. “What’s up? Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade just twists his face up even more, scowling out into the room. “Why am I so tired? I don’t think you were this tired after you got body shifted.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter shrugs. Wade’s head moves with him but doesn’t fall off his shoulder. “I think I was too freaked out about the whole situation. Panic had me too jittery to be exhausted. I don’t mind if you sleep more, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I wanna spend time with you,” Wade whines. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t we go over this earlier, when you ordered the food?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade just pouts again and leans a little more firmly against Peter’s side, turning his head and rubbing his face against Peter’s shoulder like a cat. Peter smiles at him and goes back to eating. Before Peter even finishes the rest of his food, Wade’s soft snoring has started back up again. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Wade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter’s still working on the machine when Wade wakes up for the third time, and she pouts at the back of his head as she drags out a loud and dramatic sigh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter freezes and slowly finishes placing the wire in his hand before he turns around with a smile. “Hey! Good nap?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We were relaxing together,” Wade complains. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he shrugs, Peter seems only a little guilty. “You were sleeping pretty hard, and I wasn’t tired. I figured I’d just work on this a little more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade sighs but decides to let it go. She has been sleeping more than expected today and feels a little like she can’t really blame Peter for being bored. She sits up and claps her hands. “That’s fine. So! I’m gonna take a shower and then we should go get me some new dresses, what do you think?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter starts shaking his head before Wade even manages to finish what she’s saying. “You promised you would go dress shopping with me after you got changed back,” Wade jumps to interrupt before Peter can say no. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That stymies him, and Peter shuts his mouth. After a moment of looking at Wade while she does her level best to look as pleading as possible, clasped hands in front of her chest and eyes as wide as a puppy’s, Peter sighs and gestures behind him. “Okay. You know I’m almost done with this, though. We could wait until I get you changed back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade slices his hand through the air and scoffs. “Nope! I want a dress that fits </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> me. I wanna see how awesome it looks!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you want to get changed back?” Peter asks the question doubtfully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade just waves him off again, standing up and heading towards the bathroom, “I mean yeah, kinda, but dresses, Peter!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t hear what Peter might have said in reply, but she figures it’s not a big deal. She’s already pulling her clothes off as soon as she gets to the bathroom, barely pausing to shut the door behind her. Not only does warm water sound fantastic but a little body exploration when she won’t be interrupted </span>
  <em>
    <span>also</span>
  </em>
  <span> sounds fantastic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade’s quickly got the water on and she’s climbing in, sighing as the hot water runs over her body. It doesn’t really feel any different than it did before. It’s warm and honestly pretty awesome, but hot showers are always like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She quickly soaps up, using the excuse to feel up her boobs for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>n</span>
  </em>
  <span>th time, and makes sure to scrub down in between her legs. The soft loofah scrubbing over her clit makes her jolt in shock. That definitely feels much stronger than she expected, so she does it again, a little firmer the second time, just to see what will happen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade squeaks as her knees try to give out on her, what feels like a bolt of lightning shooting up from between her legs. Wow. Her dick never felt like that. It’s a sharper and more centralized feeling than she had expected. Her previous experience with the female body had left her with the impression that while yes, women liked to have their clit played with, the vagina was just as awesome, right? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought has her dropping the loofah and rubbing her fingers over her clit again and then pushing them a little deeper to reach her vagina. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shock this time has her legs twitching and she quickly sits herself down on the floor of the shower, hand still between her legs. She spreads her legs as far as the sides of the sides of the shower will let her, warm water running over her chest, and drops her other hand between her legs, pressing the fingers on that hand farther down, running over the opening of her vagina and moves the other hand back up to her clit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fingers on her clit have her hips twitching with every motion, but disappointingly, the fingers at her vagina feel nice though not fantastic. It’s warm and slippery now that she’s wet, but her fingers on her clit feel so much better. She almost decides to just focus on that when she remembers the other day on the couch, when Peter had interrupted her. It had definitely felt way better when she had gotten her fingers inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought has her stopping the fingers on her clit, just pressing down on either side of it as she slips a single finger inside herself. She jolts and gasps. It’s a different, more diffuse feeling than touching her clit, but it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> and has her pressing as deep as the angle of her wrist will allow her, hissing out a small sound. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She keeps the fingers on her clit still as she pulls her finger back and puts two inside as she pushes back in. She jolts as her fingers run over something inside that feels almost as amazing as rubbing her clit. She starts rocking her hips into her hands, rubbing inside herself and just letting her other fingers rub gently up and down the sides of her clit. She can’t stop the tiny gasping sounds that erupt out of her throat with every breath. There’s a tremble that starts in her stomach and her legs are tensing up but she doesn’t stop, pressing down a little harder on her clit as she speeds up rubbing on the spot inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It feels both like and unlike any approaching orgasm she’d ever had as a man. The tension is rising higher and higher inside her, and she can feel her clit throbbing between her fingers.  It takes barely a second more for it to release, and she can feel her insides tightening up hard on her fingers. The ever present throb of her clit has her twitching. She bites back a sob and slowly lets herself relax back against the cold porcelain of the bathtub, pulling her fingers out from between her legs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade’s whole body is tingling, and she can’t help but run her hand gently over her clit one more time. The motion has her jerking and hissing at the sharp feeling of too much stimulation all at once. Wow, the sensation of orgasm might be different, but the oversensitivity afterwards definitely isn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t know how long she’s been in the shower, but the water beating down on her stomach is still warm. She pulls herself up on shaky noodle legs and grabs the loofy, quickly finishing up. She feels way more tender between her legs than she had figured she would, considering she really hadn’t been rough on herself, but every movement of her legs as she climbs out of the shower sends tiny jolts through her clit and she bites back another small sound as she grabs a towel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’ll definitely have to talk to Peter about holding off on changing her back. Her first thoughts about exploring this new body of hers had been right, and she just </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> to try to persuade Peter to help her out with her future explorations. If it felt this good with just her own hands, the thought of Peter’s hands on her sends another pleasant shiver running through her body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hurries to get dressed, grabbing another pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt. Her boobs are straining the fabric of the shirt a little, but otherwise it’s a little baggy and long on her, though definitely not anywhere near as bad as it had been when Peter was a girl. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade?” She hears Peter call through the bedroom door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She picks up a mask and some socks, heading for the door. She swings it open and smiles at Peter. “I’m almost ready.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter offers her an excited smile and moves to the side a little as she starts to move through the door toward the couch. “Guess what?” he says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She flicks her eyes toward him just as he reaches for her hand and presses something into it. “What-?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Light flares up out of the machine that’s now in her hand, and she barely has time to turn shocked eyes onto Peter’s delightedly smiling face before blackness is rising up to swallow her. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Peter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter just manages to catch Wade as he starts to fall over, eyes rolling back up into his head. Crap, he should have thought of that before shoving the machine into his hand. He was just so excited to share that he’d finished fixing it that he hadn’t thought about that whole </span>
  <em>
    <span>passing out</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing that came along with changing shape. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can feel Wade’s body becoming heavier as he swings it up into his arms, moving to lay his swiftly changing form onto the couch. He steps back and watches as Wade’s chest stops stretching out the material of the shirt and smooths down, his shoulders widening and hips narrowing, quickly shifting to fill out the clothes he’s wearing correctly instead of stretching them in some places while leaving baggy folds of fabric in others. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter grins in relief as the process slows to a stop. He's done it right this time! Both himself and Wade are back in their correct shapes, and it’s taken less than two days to get Wade changed back. Peter’s grin softens, and he leans down to press a quick kiss to Wade’s forehead. He’s glad he was able to spare Wade being in an unwanted female form as long as Peter had been stuck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lets himself sit back and just looks for a moment, sliding his eyes over the lines of Wade’s muscular arms and enjoying the breadth of his shoulders again. The breasts had certainly been nice to look at, but his usual muscles are nice too. Peter remembers how it felt to be in the wrong body, feeling like his skin didn’t fit right, and he’s so glad he was able to spare Wade days of that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t let himself look for long, though. Wade was exhausted just from the change into a woman, he’ll probably wake up starving and even more exhausted from the change back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter heads into the kitchen to make something. He’s not sure how long Wade’s going to sleep so the food needs to be something that will last. Once there, Peter stands in front of the refrigerator for long minutes, not even opening the appliance. Now that everything’s over, Peter’s whole body is trembling with relief and happiness. This just… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This whole situation could have been so much worse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A thought flashes through Peter’s head. Wade had wanted to drag Peter out shopping, and he had said something before he went to shower. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I wanna get some dresses that fit </span>
  </em>
  <span>this </span>
  <em>
    <span>me!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The memory has a shimmer of concern rising up in him. Peter hadn’t really been listening, too excited about almost being finished with the machine. He hadn’t even thought about it before shoving it in Wade’s hands as he walked out of the bedroom door. Peter tries to brush the thought away, finally opening the fridge. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s fine. It will </span>
  <em>
    <span>be fine.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Wade just needs to wake up and then Peter can set these fears to rest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter remembers how excited he had been to wake up as a man again; he’s sure Wade will feel the same way once he wakes up. But the thought niggles at him the whole time he’s pulling sandwich fixings out of the fridge. Peter keeps remembering how much time Wade spent trying on dresses, how excited he had been to show off his boobs… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade wanted to be changed back into a man just as badly as Peter had, Peter tries to firmly remind himself. He was just being kind and a good friend when he had told Peter not to work himself into the ground trying to get the machine fixed quickly, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter gets a full loaf of bread turned into sandwiches, plastic wrapped and shoved into the fridge, still picking at the worrying thoughts that keep spinning through his head. The evidence that he might have been wrong about what Wade wanted keeps piling up with every memory he examines. Wade had been so pleased at the idea of exploring his new body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Standing in the kitchen and fretting isn’t going to get him anywhere, though. Peter heads into the living room. There’s no way to know what Wade’s going to think about getting changed back, not for sure, until he wakes up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sitting himself back down between the couch and the coffee table, Peter looks over at Wade’s seemingly peacefully sleeping form and sighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s fine. Wade </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> wake up just as excited as Peter had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought isn’t as comforting as Peter would like it to be, and he turns to face the machine sitting innocently on the coffee table where he has left it. There’s a wisp of smoke curling up from the seam of the handle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course some of the wires fried again.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter grabs it, gently pulling the faceplate off. He sees the same kind of damage that had been visible both times he fixed the machine before. That’s interesting. Doc Ock should have put the thing together correctly. Peter lets himself be pulled into the scientific puzzle of pulling the machine apart and trying to figure out when the power regulation isn’t quite right. Two hours and a couple singed fingers later, Peter’s calmer and Wade is starting to stir behind him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning so he can see Wade’s face as he wakes, Peter leans his elbow on the couch to look at Wade again. Peter smiles. It’s definitely going to be fine. Wade’s going to be excited and happy with Peter and maybe then they can talk a little about going on a real date before Peter heads home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Things can get back to </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal</span>
  </em>
  <span> with a little added excitement in the form of Peter and Wade going on a few real dates. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter watches as Wade’s whole face scrunches up. Wade brings a hand up to his face and a groan rumbles out of his throat. “Holy shit. Did you catch the license plate of that bus that hit me, baby boy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade?” Peter asks. “How are you feeling?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade twists onto his side, hand still pressed to his face. “Ugh. Not super great. Got a headache. What-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade’s whole body freezes and his words cut off sharply as his eyes snap open. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter offers him a smile that is most definitely not as bright as it could be. “I got the machine fixed. I wanted to surprise you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade’s hand falls from his face. Peter can’t even imagine what’s going through his head. Wade’s face is just as blank as his mask can be, blanker even, considering how expressive Peter’s seen Wade’s mask before. There’s no motion from Wade except a handful of blinks as he stares at Peter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A surprise,” he finally offers, still seemingly emotionless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” It comes out as a question, even though Peter hadn’t meant it to. He clears his throat and tries again, “I figured you wanted to change back as soon as possible, you know?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade just blinks at him again. “Yeah, that makes sense,” Wade says slowly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter tentatively smiles. The blankness is disconcerting coming from Wade. He’s normally such an expressive guy, loud and over the top. Peter’s never seen him like this. The optimism Peter’s managed to build back up while waiting for Wade to wake is quickly crumpling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… made food,” Peter offers, standing. “You’ve gotta be hungry; I’ll go get it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade doesn’t say anything as Peter hurries into the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He still doesn’t say anything when he accepts the plate from Peter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter gingerly sits next to him on the couch, watching as he slowly begins eating. Wade’s face is starting to get back some of its typical animation, but that isn’t much of a consolation to Peter. He’s barely halfway through his first sandwich when he grimaces sharply and a scowl appears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His motions are increasingly angry as he starts in on the second sandwich. Peter’s fighting not to say anything, gripping his own fingers tightly as he watches. There’s no denying it now. Wade’s not happy. Peter really shouldn’t have just shoved the machi-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter stares down at his twisting fingers as he mentally spirals. The sharp thump of the plate hitting the coffee table has him startling hard, head jerking towards Wade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade’s face is set in a harsh glare and his hands are fisted on his knees. “Why did you do this, Peter?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You- Uh, change you back?” Peter fumbles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes! I walked out here, all ready to go out, and you just shoved that thing in my hand!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought- I thought you would be happy!” Peter can’t help the sharp sound in his voice as disappointment and guilt sing through him. So maybe he should have asked first, but this was still a good thing! Wade was just back to normal, it wasn’t like Peter had done something terrible to him!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What-” Wade grimaces, throwing himself to his feet and stomping toward the bedroom door. He stops only a few steps away and turns back, gesturing angrily, “Why the fuck would you think that?! I was having fun, I wanted to go buy dresses, and was asking you to help me explore! What the freaking fudge knuckles about all that made you think I wanted to change back right this motherfucking instant? And you just shoved it on me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just- I’m sorry, Wade!” Peter shrinks back into the couch, wrapping his arms around himself and lowering his eyes. “I figured- I don’t know, I guess I just thought since I wanted to change back right away so would you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade scoffs loudly, “You thought. Right. I get the feeling there wasn’t much actual thought going on at all, ‘cause then maybe you would have </span>
  <em>
    <span>noticed</span>
  </em>
  <span> that I didn’t want to change back yet. Or hell, maybe you might even have heard me all the times I told you to not </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking worry about it, no goddamn rush!!”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter flinches as Wade’s words rise into a shout but doesn’t say anything back this time. Wade’s right, Peter didn’t think. He’d been so caught up in his own guilt that all he could think about was Wade had to be reacting just like Peter. He’d just- </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. Peter shouldn’t keep trying to come up with excuses, even only inside his head. He raises his head and meets Wade’s bitter look. “You’re right. I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade just scoffs bitterly again. “You’re fucking sorry. Yeah. Lotta good that actually does, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t give Peter the chance to reply, turning around and stomping into his room, slamming the door behind him.   </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Wade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wade freezes just inside his room, the sound of his door slamming loud in his ears. The urge to hit something is strong, and he clenches his fists. Snarling, he turns and starts pacing. He wants to go back out there and yell some more. He wants to scream right here in this room, just to let out all the building rage. He wants this to not have happened at all!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He thought Peter understood!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade stops in front of the bathroom door, half turns his body, and swings his fist as hard as he can. The door can’t stand up to his strength and splinters. A sharp pain radiates out along his knuckles. It throbs as he pulls his hand away and sees a piece of wood, too big to be called a splinter jammed, between his knuckles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls it out and watches as the skin seals up, leaving behind a small pool of blood. The sight has the rage seeping out of him, leaving behind an echoing sadness. The healing reminds him of how he never quite gets what he wants and this is just another example of that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sadness rises up until it’s as all encompassing as the rage, and he lets himself sink to the floor as tears start slipping down his face. Wade leans himself back against the wall and hugs his knees, trying to stifle the sobs that keep shaking his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This isn’t fair! Wade had barely had the chance to enjoy the change before it was ripped away from him!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of the door opening has him tightening his arms around his legs and pressing his face harder against his legs. Wade hears as Peter moves into the room, his footfalls slow and hesitant. He stops not far away, and Wade assumes he’s looking at the hole in the bathroom door before he kneels down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade does his best to ignore the other man. Everything just feels too overwhelming right now, and Wade can’t bear the thought of hearing Peter apologize again. He doesn’t want to hear it. It may not have been a deliberate cruelty on Peter’s fault, but it still hurts that Wade once again had something he wanted torn away from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, Peter doesn’t say anything. He stays on his knees next to Wade for a moment before he stands and moves away. It feels more like abandonment then it should, considering that Peter is the reason Wade’s feeling like this at the moment, but whatever, Wade never gets anything he wants, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His sobs are starting to die down, but he can’t stop the tears that are still soaking his knees.  He’s lost track of Peter, but whatever, he probably left the room again. A spike of bitterness overwhelms the sadness for a moment, but Wade quickly lets it be washed away in his tears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s fine. Wade just needs to let himself cry for a while and hopefully Peter will be gone by the time Wade gets himself sorted out. Wade’ll just take a few days to gather his crap together and then he’ll get out of New York for a while. Avoid Peter- avoid </span>
  <em>
    <span>Spider-Man</span>
  </em>
  <span> for a while and hopefully when Wade comes back, he’ll be past everything enough that he can be in the same city as the other man. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With thoughts of Peter leaving and Wade himself leaving New York swirling through his head, it startles the ever living hell out of him when Peter drops a blanket around his shoulders. He nearly leaps out of his skin, and he definitely starts to scramble toward where he know he keeps a gun under the bathroom sink before he realises it’s just Peter settling down beside him with a big glass of water in his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade sniffs and wipes his face when Peter holds the glass out to him and suspiciously looks between Peter’s face and the glass. Why is he trying to give Wade water when he was supposed to be leaving?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter just keeps holding it out to him, and Wade tentatively reaches out and grabs it. He’s thirsty, after all. Crying takes it out of a guy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll fix it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade hastily pulls the glass away from his face, half choking on the water. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had already started remembering all the times you said you didn’t want me to hurry, the times you told me how excited you were to explore being a woman.” Peter’s looking down at Wade’s knees the whole time he says this, his expression sad. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen from the beginning, but I hear you now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tears are glimmering over his eyes when he finally looks up at Wade’s face. He blinks and the tears spill down his cheeks. “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>so sorry, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Wade. I promise I’ll fix it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade carefully sets the still half full glass of water down on the floor next to him, turns back toward Peter, and tips his body over onto Peter’s shoulder, burying his head against the soft skin of his neck. He can’t help the sobs that rise up in his throat again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter hasn’t left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade doesn’t know how long he stays pressed against Peter’s neck, but Peter holds him, arms wrapped tight around his back. His harsh sobs taper off, but he can’t seem to stop the tears that keep seeping out of his eyes. There’s still sadness but there’s also relief and a tentative hope mixed in now; it’s all just so overwhelming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A muffled growl reaches Wade’s ears. His stomach clenches and starts to rumble as it makes itself known by starting to eat at his spine. He probably should have eaten a few more of those sandwiches before freaking out at Peter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m hungry,” Wade whines, leaning back and wiping his face with the back of his hand and sniffling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter just smiles at him before standing and offering down a hand, “The sandwiches are still out there, or I can make something else.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grabbing Peter’s hand, Wade lets himself be pulled to his feet and follows quietly out to the living room. The tears have left him feeling wrung out and exhausted on top of the tiredness from the change and his whole body aches. What is even up with that; Wade hates how his body always hurts after emotional storms of any kind, and his healing factor never seems to make an impact. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aren’t all those aches and pains caused by hormones or something?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade lets the slightly delirious fleeting thoughts go as he flops down on the couch. “Don’t make anything else. The sandwiches are fine,” he says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter sits next to him at those words and hands him the plate. “Are you sure? I’m really fine with making something else.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade barely listens to Peter’s words, already cramming half a sandwich in his mouth. The meaning filters in as he starts to chew, and he shakes his head. “Too hungry to wait for anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m gonna go make a few more, okay? I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade grunts in assent, already starting on the next sandwich. He watches as Peter heads for the kitchen, though. Everything’s feeling a little unreal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Heck, maybe Peter’s a hallucination and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> leave while Wade was crying in his room. Wade having a psychotic break because he’s too overwhelmed has happened more times than he can count. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter coming back into the room a few minutes later with another stack of sandwiches helps dispel the thought, though. Sandwiches can’t make themselves and hallucinations can’t touch anything. Wade reaches out and grabs the plate from not-a-hallucination Petey and digs into one while trying not to moan as the amazing flavor of peanut butter and jelly bursts over his taste buds. Definitely real. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Wade says, both cheeks crammed with sandwich. Politeness is important! He has to quickly put his hand in front of his mouth to make sure none of the food escapes. Maybe he should offer politeness when his mouth isn’t full next time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter coughs around a laugh and smiles at him but doesn’t sit back on the couch. Instead he slides down to his previously customary spot on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. Wade hadn’t noticed before he went into his bedroom, but the machine is already open when Peter pulls it towards himself. He must have started working on it either when Wade was still out or while he was in the bedroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sight has the hope growing bigger in his chest as he lets the last of the sadness seep away.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Peter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wade’s eyes feel unbelievably heavy on Peter’s back as he watches Peter work, but Peter doesn’t say anything about it. He’s just glad that Wade is willing to come back out into the living room with him. For a little bit there, he had thought… well... </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The crash, that he now knows was Wade slamming his fist into the door, had scared Peter enough that he figured he should give Wade some time to cool down. He was afraid that if he went into the bedroom, Wade wouldn’t just kick him out of the room but maybe all the way out of the apartment. The muted sounds of crying that started drifting out from under the door barely a minute later gave him the determination he needed to go into the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sounds had felt like a knife driving itself into Peter’s chest. How could he have been so completely blind to what Wade actually felt about being a woman? Now that Peter is a step removed (and has been smacked in the face with Wade’s rage and sadness) he can easily see the happiness he’d been blind to while he worked on getting Wade changed back into a man. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course he told Wade he would fix it. Even if he hadn’t started getting the machine back into working order while Wade was still out, the devastation Wade was obviously feeling was more than enough of a push for Peter to make Wade feel better. Peter had managed to fix the machine two times before, there was no reason he couldn’t do it again. Hopefully this time he can figure out why it keeps burning out every time it’s used. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next few hours pass in semi-companionable silence. Only semi because Wade keeps getting up to pace around, and it keeps knocking Peter out of his science groove. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We could turn the tv on if you want?” he finally asks the fourth time Wade starts pacing around the living room. He's trying to be calm and understanding; Peter knows he's the one that caused this problem in the first place, but the words carry an edge of frustration.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They seem to startle Wade. He swings around with a jerk to stare at Peter, his eyes wide and a little glassy. “What?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you’re probably feeling a little impatient, but I’m going as fast as I can, Wade. I’m sorry.” Peter’s trying his best to stifle irritation, but it’s hard. Every time Wade jumps up, his spidey sense buzzes from Wade’s agitation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade grimaces. “Shit, sorry. I just… yeah. Sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sits back down on the couch behind Peter and picks up the remote, turning on the tv. Peter settles back in to examining the machine and carefully replacing the burned out wires. He should at least have the thing fixed enough to get Wade back into a feminine form within just a couple days since all he needs to do is replace the burned wires, but there’s no reason not to try and figure out how to fix the power regulation problem while he’s at it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he has to fix it again, they’ll have to get more parts and who knows how long that will take. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter manages to ignore Wade as he flips through all the channels at least half a dozen times, finally settling on a show for a few minutes before changing it again with a loud sigh. He does this for over an hour. Eventually, Wade throwing the remote on the table and standing up has him flinching sharply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wha-?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I gotta get out of here,” Wade bites out. “I can’t- I just need to be away for a while.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter doesn't get the chance to reply before Wade's hurtling himself into the bedroom and shutting the door. Peter can't hear anything except a few muted thumps, and he looks down at the machine. He's focusing too hard on the sound of Wade moving around to get anything done, the wires blurring between his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It only takes a few minutes before Wade's walking back into the room. He's in sweatpants and a black hoodie with his mask and gloves on. He doesn't bother to stop on his way to the front door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll be back later." The words are muttered in no particular direction, and Wade doesn’t even bother looking over at Peter on his way out the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It swings shut behind him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter gapes at the closed door. He had been wishing Wade would be a little calmer about waiting, but he hadn't wanted him to leave! The resulting silence feels suffocating, and Peter finds it even harder to focus now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tries anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn't know how much time has passed since Wade left, but his eyes are burning by the time he hears the doorknob turning. He glances over long enough to make sure it’s Wade before refocusing back at the machine in his hands and offering a distracted, "Hey."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh," Wade walks into the apartment enough to let the door swing shut behind him. "I figured you would be asleep."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What do you mean?" Peter blinks up at Wade.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade moves to the couch and pulls his mask off. "You know it's after four in the morning, right?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter feels a bolt of shock. It can't have been that late! It was barely afternoon when Wade had left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But that's-" Peter looks between the unfinished machine and Wade. It's not done. Wade probably stayed away hoping Peter would be finished when he got back! "It's not done. I'm so sorry, Wade! I was working the whole time, I promise! I'll-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Peter, no," Wade interrupts, reaching out to lightly grip his shoulder. "That's not what I meant. You shouldn't work yourself to death for this. You need to sleep."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What? Of course I didn't go to bed. I made a mistake; I need to fix this!" Peter says a little frantically, turning away from Wade and trying to resume his work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter freezes when Wade's hand comes down to cover his, gathering his fingers and gently pulling them off the machine. Peter let's his eyes follow the arm up to Wade's face, and he's shocked to see that Wade's smiling at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Let's go to bed," Wade says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter just watches him silently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade stands and gives Peter's hand a tug. "Come on, we don't need this scene to be a rewrite of the last time you fixed this damn thing."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter lets himself be pulled up. "A rewrite?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Parallel scenes. For emphasis and dramatic style, you know? Hah, author's just being lazy," is the only answer Wade gives. It makes even less sense than the last thing Wade said, but Peter figures it's easier to just let it go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He freezes when they reach the door, though, refusing to let Wade pull him into the bedroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade pouts at him and whines, "I'm tired. I want you to be my Peter-pillow."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not that one either," Peter replies, automatically latching onto the new nickname without thinking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade flashes a grin at his easy response. "Okay. Let's sleep now?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't sleep with you tonight!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade tugs on him again and dramatically slumps his shoulders, making a high pitched whining sound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What are you even doing?" Peter is still firm in his resolve not to move. After betraying Wade like he had, he doesn't deserve to share a bed with Wade again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade gives up and drops Peter's hand. "Come to bed," he demands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wade!" Peter exclaims. "You don't want me to share a bed with you!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, I do."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade offers this so calmly that Peter can't help but stare at him in confusion. "Bu- how? Why? Aren't you still mad at me?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nope!" Wade chirps. He's rocking on his heels and smiling, and it just doesn't make any sense to Peter. If he were in Wade's place, he would still be beyond furious!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade takes Peter's open mouthed silence as an agreement and starts trying to tug Peter back into the bedroom again. Peter reluctantly lets himself be pulled, dragging his heels but not actually stopping Wade this time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watches as Wade flops onto bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade then stands back up and bodily pushes Peter into the bed with him. "Stop scowling, sweet pea. We're just gonna cuddle and sleep."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter can't stop his sigh but let's himself be manhandled all the same. "Why aren't you mad at me?" He asks as Wade climbs in on the other side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade laughs but it really isn't a happy sound. "Oh, I'm definitely not pleased it happened. But hey! If I held on to all my grudges, I'd never have any friends. I don't wanna be angry at you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cuddling onto his side, Peter squeezes his eyes shut. "I deserve it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade's hand settles against his back. "Yeah, but you're trying to fix it."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Wade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Wade opens his eyes the next morning Peter is starfished on his back, one leg thrown over Wade's. Wade can't help but smile at his sleeping face. It's still an amazing rush to know Peter trusts him without a mask. His willingness to sleep beside Wade is just a bonus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade wasn't lying to Peter the night before. He was mostly over being mad. When he'd left Peter working on the machine and gone to Sister Margaret's, it was to down a few bottles of alcohol and bitch to Weasel about the miserable state of life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He'd stayed out until it was late enough to be called early, figuring he'd find Peter passed out on the couch when he got home. It had been a shock to see him still working. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seeing Peter's glazed eyes and obvious exhaustion had knocked out the last of Wade's resentment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade's known Spider-Man long enough at this point to know how oblivious and completely lacking in common sense the man really is, no matter his actual intelligence level. While it had hurt to have his female form taken away so abruptly, Peter's actions since then have proven he was just as blind as Daredevil. He wasn’t actually trying to be a giant dick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, not about this, anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade tries to wiggle out from under Peter without waking him, but it doesn’t quite work. Peter startles a little and half reaches for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade?” he mumbles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go back to sleep, Petey.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s eyes slip closed again and he turns on his side, grabbing the pillow Wade had been sleeping with and wrapping his arms around it. He seems to be asleep again in seconds. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade lets himself smile before heading for the bathroom. He’s been putting off the urge to pee. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s stupid. Wade </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>it’s stupid. Pissing as a woman for the first time hadn’t phased him at all; he’d still been high on the excitement of the whole experience. But now… Wade hasn’t looked in his pants since the change back. His dick is there now, the feeling in his pants one he easily recognizes… but he hadn’t wanted to deal with the reality. He still doesn’t, really, but his bladder isn’t going to let him ignore it forever. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Standing in front of the toilet, he pulls the front of his pants down and has to fight a rush of disappointment as he aims and lets go. The relief of letting go after holding his urine for too long feels good, but a dick isn’t what he wants to have right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s almost silly, really. He’s never hated being a man, always accepted that’s what he is, but he’s also enjoyed playing around with the idea of being a woman. He’s always enjoyed soft and pretty things and being in the shape of a woman just made it so much easier to embrace and own that feeling. He wants that back, and no matter how much he tells Peter that he’s letting go of his anger, there’s still a little bit of it burning in the back of his mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls his pants back up and flushes, turning to wash his hands. It’s fine. Peter’s fixing it. Considering how long it took him last time, it should be done sometime today and Wade can go back to exploring what it means for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wade</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be a woman.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t linger, heading for the kitchen. Breakfast will definitely make the wait feel less terrible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s whistling to himself and chopping cooked chicken when Peter wanders into the room, and he pauses to throw the exhausted looking man a smile. “What’s up, chicken butt?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter scowls. “Really? Chicken butt is not a good nickname.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade splits the chicken between two pie pans, quickly tossing a bite into his mouth and turning to crowd Peter a little. “I dunno, I kinda like it. Though you’re right,” he slips his hands around Peter, letting them sink low and squeeze at his amazing buns of steel, “you don’t have a chicken butt at all.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wade!” Peter squeaks, face starting to flush. He breathes through his nose quickly, darts up to kiss Wade’s cheek and slips out of his arms, scooting himself up onto the counter next to where Wade had been prepping. “What are you making.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade lets himself be redirected back to food, grinning. “Breakfast, duh!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Breakfast with chicken?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve never had quiche?” Wade shakes his head at Peter. The poor man has just been so deprived of good food! “That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>so sad, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m glad I decided to make it for you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade grabs a block of pepperjack cheese and starts to shred it. Peter tries to sneak a bite, asking, “What is it, though?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” Wade slaps Peter’s hand with the cheese block. “Hands off until it’s done! It’s basically an omelet in pie form. Well, with extra cheese.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter hums, nodding. “Sounds good.” He watches for a minute more before his face falls. “I should… I should go work on the machine a little more.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Peter…” Wade reaches for him as Peter slips off the counter and moves towards the living room, but Peter twists out of the way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just for a little while, Wade. You can let me know when breakfast is ready, but I want to get this done today, okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade lets him go. He knows he shouldn’t, but Peter’s persistence helps soothe that little ember of anger that he hasn’t been able to let go. It’s nice to see that Peter really didn’t mean to hurt him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade turns back to slicing cheese and starts whistling again. Today is going to be a good day. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Peter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter can hear Wade whistling in the kitchen and it makes him smile. After yesterday, Peter had been afraid he would never get to see or hear Wade be happy again. It’s nice to know he was wrong. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Last night had been a little bit of a revelation. Wade seems to have actually forgiven him and Peter had </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>expected that to happen. Peter figured he would finish fixing the machine, and that would be that; he wouldn’t see Wade again unless Wade wanted to change back. Instead, Wade went out of his way to show Peter that he wants him to stick around, dragging Peter to bed and cuddling with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was… it was more than nice, if Peter’s being honest. And who else can he be honest with if not himself, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Letting himself slip back down to his customary spot in between the couch and the coffee table, Peter peers at the machine. He doesn’t really remember where he had left off. Wade was right to drag Peter to bed, no matter how much Peter had wanted to finish it before he slept. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s… it’s done. Peter can’t remember finishing it! He can remember being adamant that he needed to keep looking, to keep working, when Wade dragged him to bed. What had he wanted to do? He pokes at the exposed insides curiously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh! It’s almost like a lightbulb going off in his head. He had wanted to figure out why it kept frying every time it was used. He remembered thinking that early on, when he had first started working on it, but had mostly abandoned the idea when he saw how angry Wade had been at being changed back into a man. It had seemed more important just to fix the machine to get him changed back into a woman rather than worry about solving the power distribution problem... but he can see the problem now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s hard to decide what to do. Should he just tell Wade it’s finished and fry it again? Should he tell Wade he needs another part to finish fixing it? Should he explain to Wade what’s going on?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, now Peter knows he’s just being dumb. Of course he should just explain everything to Wade. If nothing else, Wade’s rage at being changed without Peter asking first should be enough to teach Peter that </span>
  <em>
    <span>words</span>
  </em>
  <span> are important. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Wade?” Peter calls softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s up, baby boy?” Wade’s cheerful voice comes through the doorway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter gets up and walks into the kitchen. He leans on the counter next to Wade. His silence has Wade looking at him in concern. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Peter? Is everything okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can have it finished in ten minutes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade nearly drops the remaining block of cheese. “You were that close?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter looks away. “I figured out why it keeps frying every time. I know how to stop it from breaking when we use it, but I don’t have the part I would need to do it.” Blinking, Peter looks back at Wade’s glowing face. “But if you don’t want to wait, I can change you back into a woman now and then get the part later to make the machine reusable, if you ever want to change back again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You- I-” Wade stumbles on his words, tears visibly rising in his eyes. When he blinks, they start to fall and Peter reaches for him, pulling Wade into his arms. Wade lets himself be cuddled and sobs into Peter’s shoulder. He wraps his arms tightly around Peter’s back. His tears are dampening Peter’s shoulder as Wade cries. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This isn’t what Peter had expected. He pulls Wade a little closer. Why is Wade crying? “Wade? Did I- I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade sniffles into his shoulder and rubs his face against Peter. Peter fights a grimace. He cares about Wade, and he isn’t going to push the crying man away, but that’s just gross. Wade leans far enough away to wipe at his face with his hands and he half laughs. “I’m just a little- I wasn’t expecting it to be so soon. It’s overwhelming!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls away completely and grins at Peter. The tears haven’t quite stopped, but his excitement seems too much to contain. He laughs suddenly and spins in place before freezing to face Peter and hold up a hand dramatically. “Wait!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Peter asks, startled.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I already started breakfast!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him. Of course Wade would worry about the food! “You know, you can take as long as you want,” Peter offers, laughter lining his words. “Finish breakfast. I’ll have the machine ready, and you can tell me when you want to be changed again, okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wade hops in place and then throws himself forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Peter again. When he pulls away, he presses a kiss onto Peter’s mouth. “Yes! That’s perfect. We’ll eat and then you’ll change me back into a woman and then I’ll sleep for a week!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He spins back to the counter and starts shredding cheese again. He pauses to throw a smile at Peter before he waves the block of cheese at him. “Shoo, go go! Don’t you have a machine to finish?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter lets himself return the grin before he turns towards the living room. He has a machine to finish putting back together. </span>
</p>
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